Rev. Zach

Your True Nature

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 11 Feb 2024 07:56:00 +0000

As some of you may know, both of my children have birthdays this month. My wife posted a wonderful photo montage celebrating our eldest child’s birthday last week, which inspired me to do the same. While looking through and selecting old photos, I could not help thinking about the changes that come with life’s events. I must say that I am continually awestruck and honored to be the husband and father that I am, and to be a part of the changes that life brings into our lives together.

It is amazing how quickly it goes, but the younger years are the easiest to mark. They are also the years we prize the most. You might even argue that entire economic systems revolve around resisting those changes as life goes on.

No matter what we do, change is a constant metabolic reality that we experience every day. I’m reminded here of one of my favorite after-church hand-shake conversations in my first call in Virginia. Often I would ask how he was doing and he would say, “Well, you’re either green and growing or brown and rotting. Today I’m doing my best to be green.”

Change is simply one of two consonants in the universe – the other one being the love of God. We may not like the constancy of change, but for the most part, we live with it. We take our pictures. We share our stories, and we get on with it. The only time we really worry about it is when change is forced upon us – like a loss, or an illness, or even being told to floss or eat healthier or exercise – the kind of change that is out of our control.

Even in a political system that gives us voice and vote, we can still feel like things are being forced upon us when we do not agree with the way things go. That can make us want to cling to the past more firmly and hold it up like a shining example of what life should be about. Truly, there is a certain wisdom in bringing the best of the past into the future.

One of the things I left in Lafayette that will eventually make its way up here is a walking stick I picked up in Ghana that has a carved bird craning its neck to balance an egg on its tail feathers. I was told it was an illustration that, “The future depends upon the past.” Likewise, many of our own indigenous people share the belief that we are always preparing the world for the next seven generations. I think we get that idea here in this historic building, but we must also remember Isaiah’s cry (43:18-19), “Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing.”

Isaiah wasn’t calling for some weird spiritual amnesia or a denial of the past. He was warning us against worshiping it. That’s important because today we are celebrating a strangely mystic story about the full revelation of Jesus as the incarnational presence of God. This story is important to our heritage and our beliefs, but if you were to try to tell it to someone who is not familiar with it – let’s just say it would be awkward.

First, there’s the name of the story: the transfiguration of Jesus. What does that even mean? Let’s talk about it. Jesus goes up the mountain with Peter, James, and John. Mountains and high places were holy spaces to the ancient Israelites and to many others in Mesopotamia. It was closer to the dome of heaven – which many thought was an actual, solid barrier between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdoms of the Earth. Suddenly Jesus becomes dazzling white – his clothes, his face, and his skin seem to emanate light!

And if that wasn’t weird enough, he is joined by Moses and Elijah. I’ve always wondered how they knew who these guys were. Did they have name tags? Bowling shirts? Coveralls? I like to think they were already up there and Jesus did some introduction.

“Guys,” to the disciples, “Don’t freak out, but I want to introduce you to some friends of mine.” To Moses and Elijah, “These are some of my disciples, Peter, James, and John.” To disciples, “Guys, this is Moses and Elijah. We’re going over here for a little chat. I need to bring these guys up to speed on some things, and maybe share some best practices. Just hang tight.”

I also love that it says that Peter was terrified, so he just said the first thing that came to his mind. I feel like he blurted this out with all the enthusiasm of a Swifty, “Wow. Wow. Wow. Ok, great! We’ll make tents. Three tents. I don’t need one. James, John, do you need one? No. Of course not. So yeah. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Let’s tabernacle, like…old schoolz.”

Then BOOM! Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening (ok no lightning, but definitely thunder) “Listen to my Son - the beloved” the same words proclaimed at the baptism of Jesus rang out from heaven. Then they had a very awkward walk down the mountain in which Jesus said, again, tell no one about this until after my resurrection.

Here’s why this bizarro story about happy, shiny Jesus matters. Moses and Elijah represent the law and the prophets, and Jesus was speaking with them as an equal because he was seen as the fulfillment of the law and of all prophecy. Jesus was God’s self-revelation for all people, for all time, forever!

That is why this story is so important to the Christian faith that it gets lifted up in one form or another every year. And every year I struggle with the difference between transformation and transfiguration. Jesus is not transformed, he is transfigured. What does that even mean?

Well, essentially it’s a difference between an internal or an external change. Braces, for example, transform your mouth, but a smile can “transfigure” your face. A smile tells us what you are feeling, just as laughter reveals your joy. The interesting thing to me about all of this is that the Greek word in the original text, “metamorpho,” can be translated either way. In fact, the word transfigure didn’t even exist before around the 14th century – kind of like a few other words that entered the text in the 1600s.

Here’s why this matters. Language changes over time, and that’s usually a good thing. Language changes to more accurately reflect our experiences. This word, “transfigure,” became important to this story because there was so much change happening in the world at that time. Culture and art, science and math, and the very concept of the earth and the stars were changing, and there was a deep need to know that God – the God revealed through Jesus – was still reliable.

I think we can identify with that. The need for solid ground – physically, philosophically, and theologically – flows through our art and culture and public lives. I saw this a while back when reading a Sci-Fi series called “The Long Earth” that describes a new reality that becomes opened up when humanity discovers a way to step into alternate versions of the Earth in new dimensions. A new balance between chaos and order had to be found, and in the midst of it, there were children who began to communicate with new speech patterns that seemed almost telepathic because they were processing information at a higher rate. That last part sounds like science fiction until your child grabs your phone out of your hand to show you how to use it to order coffee!

As I was thinking about all of that it occurred to me that we are living in a time of great change that involves a shift in our cosmology. We can see deeper into space and further into the fabric of sub-atomic structures than ever before. We are constantly exploring new realities that are both virtual and real, and cultures are clashing on every shore. We are faced with new debates over religion and faith and ethics that are reshaping our very society and our global community. In the midst of all of that, we probably want to know that our faith in Jesus is still reliable!

Perhaps this story of the Transfiguration of Jesus still has something more for us that is beyond myth and legend and is bolstered by our faith in Jesus as the revelation of God’s unchanging love. Perhaps our faith tradition might even help us crane our necks to balance the egg of our future. When I say “our faith tradition” I don’t just mean the Protestant Reformation. I mean the early church. For a little over a thousand years the church used the Greek or Latin form of the word “transform” to describe what Jesus did on the mountain. It wasn’t that he changed in substance and became “Super Jesus.” It was that he became something else in the eyes of the disciples.

From this point on, Jesus was no longer the Rabi who taught about God. Jesus now began to demonstrate that he was the one like Elijah who spoke for God, and he was the one like Moses whose actions were the actions of God! Jesus – according to John’s Gospel – was the embodiment of the words that spoke creation into being. He was the one whose actions demonstrated the power of God’s love over sin and death. That means that God’s love cannot be diminished by any of those other changes that may also be out of your control. That’s the first thing I want you to remember.

The next is to say that I used to think that only Jesus could be transfigured and that we were all transformed by God’s love through him. That might still be true, but I’ve come to realize that the transformations that I have seen and experienced have all, in some way, revealed the true nature of a person as God’s beloved child.

While I believe that these transformations happen over and over throughout a life of faith, some of you have heard me talk about one of my earlier experiences at a Montreat Youth Conference. I was raised in the church and already considered myself a believer, and I was beginning to think about what life would be like after high school. I had a notion that my brother and I were going to open an ad agency and take on the world! As providence would have it, the theme of the conference was “Branded” and the general idea was that the world tries to make you feel needy and define you by brand loyalty, whereas God’s love helps you see who you are as a child of God.

I walked away thinking that following Jesus and going into advertising might be a harder walk than I wanted. God bless you if you’re walking that path, but I took a left turn and went home by another way. I guess you could say that I was transfigured in that I’ve been seeking to know myself as a child of God ever since.

There’s another story about transformation that I want to share with you. It’s about a man named Herb Green whom I met in Lafayette in the course of my journey, but I need to give you a trigger warning because it starts with the death of a child. I won't go into detail about that, but after losing his child, Mr. Green gave up on God. He lost his faith, and he was in a bad way.

Who could blame him, right? Well, Mr. Green, began to take solace by playing his djembe in a park nearby. It was about the only thing that gave him joy. A woman heard him and asked if he could teach her grandkids. He said he would, and he did. After he began to teach her grandchildren something softened in him, and he realized that God still had children for him to help raise, and doing so (little by little) restored his faith. He started teaching more children. Given his background in Psychology, he began to see that so many of the problems we have as adults are because we do not learn to manage our emotions as children – especially when there is trauma at a young age.

That was 30 years ago. Since then he has established “Pouchi Percusion” – a program where he connects with children through music. He teaches them to be aware of their emotions so that they can control them. He offers God’s love by example and intent for children who may or may not have ever heard about Jesus. Most of them have not had good examples of Christ’s teachings to follow, and Mr. Green is very intentional about offering such an example.

He even arranged a trip to New York for these children to play on stages they could not have imagined playing on before. When I saw them play, I saw a man of God who was present with children in trauma, and both he and the children were being transformed by the grace and mercy of God!

Friends, as we end this season of enlightenment that is epiphany and move toward the time of preparation for Easter that we call Lent, we are going to continue exploring the incarnational nature of God! We’re going to explore what it means to be the body of Christ in the world as we, like Jesus, set our face toward the cross, the empty tomb, and the resurrection that awaits us all.

Hopefully, this all has you thinking about the ways that God has been active and present in your life, and maybe even about the ways your true nature as a child of God might yet be revealed.

At least, I pray that it will be so with me, and with you, and to God be the glory – now and always. Amen.

One In A Million

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 04 Feb 2024 07:39:00 +0000

Isaiah 40:21-31; Mark 1:29-39

Our gospel reading ends with, “And Jesus went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.”

Have you ever wondered what that message might be? We have portions of what we believe were some of his sermons, but can you imagine hearing him preach for yourself? Talk about a message that transforms your life! Think about the most inspiring message you have ever received, and then imagine that the person who delivered it was able to remove all of your doubts and fears and make you feel more complete and purpose-filled than you ever thought that you could.

I don’t mean to dumb Jesus down to the level of a motivational guru, but isn’t the message of Jesus that repentance draws you into God’s presence in a way that connects you with all of creation? Isn’t salvation as much about our lives today as it is about the promise of eternity? Isn’t that the Gospel – the Good News?

I imagine that if we asked each person here to say what he or she believes is the Gospel, the Good News, or the message of Jesus, we might get a few different answers. We might also get some answers that repeat what we’ve been taught to say or answers that give us comfort to hear.

According to our texts today, I believe the Good News we have received is that redemption comes through community, salvation is experienced between us mutually, and Jesus came to demonstrate the active presence of God and to invite us to participate in it. To get at the heart of these passages, I’d like for you to join me in a thought experiment where we consider, to the best of our abilities, the perspective of the original audience.

In order to assist you, I am going to attempt to narrate a retelling of certain portions of these readings from the perspective of someone in the original audience. Before doing that I feel that I must state the obvious, which is that even the most scholarly approach distills these stories through cultural and theological lenses. In other words, it’s impossible to read scripture without any form of bias or expectation.

For example, we typically treat Isaiah as though it was written by one person, but most scholars believe that Isaiah was written in three different eras and relates more to a style of discourse about the fall of Israel and Judah than an actual person.

For the sake of this exercise, I’ll try to thread the needle between both of those expectations while focusing on a first-person account of someone who might have heard this prophetic word while in captivity in Babylon. Ready? Ok. Here is my version of a person receiving the word of God from Isaiah:

“That Prophet is at it again. Isaiah, they call him – I think. He always speaks at difficult times. His words were shared in our palaces and public squares before the Babylonians took us, conquered us, and divided us like things to be traded. He told us of our sin as a nation while mothers cried because the old and young suffered a miserable fate. I’m not even sure if it is the same man who speaks now. Perhaps he is as much an idea as he is a man. Somehow, he speaks the very words of God.

It’s not so much about predictions coming true. It is more about representing truth. His words point out the truth we can hardly bare to see. This time his words offer a certain assurance. We have paid for our sins, and even more! We are even hearing rumors that Jerusalem is being restored.

Not that I want to go back. That place is in shambles. Servitude – which is terrible no matter how you slice it – was not as bad for me as it was for others. I’m a scribe. I am useful to our captors, and I have been given opportunities to earn money and support my family. It wasn’t so easy for those with no skill and strong backs. Let’s not even start talking about what the women have endured.

Now they are calling for us to return and restore Jerusalem, and this Prophet has to remind us how vast the creative force of God is and how limited our efforts to control the world must be. Not only that, he reminds us that God is always restoring us – not just me, but us. And our connection as God’s people gives us hope. Not only that, but it allows us to be defined by what God is doing – no matter what we have done. That’s good news – we are a people that God restores and redeems over and over and over again!”

Of course, we know from the prophecies of Ezra and Nehamia that Emporer Cyrus allowed the Hebrew people to return to Jerusalem, but it wasn’t quite as rosy as Isaiah promised as they remained a vassal state of various powers and dictators.

By the time this Rabi, Jesus, came to the scene, Rome was in charge, and there was talk of revolution everywhere. Years after the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, stories about him were being written down to share with future generations – even you and me. I’d like to think there here was a person in the synagogue in Capernaum one day who saw Jesus teach in a way that silenced the Pharisees, and maybe he even commanded some compulsive busybody to be silent. The text begins with Jesus healing Peter’s Mother-in-law, but it says that “the whole city was gathered around her door.” Maybe that same person told someone about it – someone who was in the back of the crowd – when they were sharing a meal the next day, and maybe it went something like this:

“You won’t believe it. I followed him to that disciple, Peter’s, Mother-in-law. I tell you, she went from flat on her back to serving lunch in no time! Weird, I know. You would think someone else would let her rest, but she seemed fairly unstoppable. Perhaps her gratitude was so great that she felt like she had no other choice. Well, of course everyone and their cousin showed up, and he healed as many as he could. He even told some of them who seemed possessed to be silent, but it seemed like he wasn’t just talking to them. He was talking to whatever it was that controlled them. You should have seen them afterward! It was like he reached in and pulled out their doubts and fears. But then he snuck off in the middle of the night.

At first, we were devastated. But then we came to see that we could actually take care of each other. We could be God’s presence for each other. We could receive God’s presence from each other! The good news is that when we realized that salvation had already come, we wanted to do something in response. We wanted to share it, to seek others out, and to demonstrate it in new ways every day!”

And that is the message of Jesus! God offers redemption through a community of believers. In a community, we find that our salvation is not exclusive. It is dependent on our relationships. It is lived and shared and happening right now. And Jesus invites us, even here, even now to be a part of God’s salvation in and through our relationships with others.

Maybe the idea of living into our salvation together is just a concept or an idea to you. Maybe that’s a new way to think about it for you, or maybe not. Maybe you don’t even agree with my interpretation. That’s fine.

All I can say is that the real example of the good news of Jesus, for me, in this text is Peter’s Mother-in-law. As uncomfortable and loaded with social expectations as it may be, she responded to her healing by serving them.

I’m reminded of a woman named Maryland whom I knew in Lafayette. She worked for an organization called C.U.P.S. (Communities United in Prayer and Service) that started in the church I served after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita swept through South Louisiana and into Texas. Those storms were in 2005. They displaced over 1 million people. By the time I got there in 2010, C.U.P.S. had been formed as a coalition of faith communities attempting to help those who fell through the cracks of the available social services.

Maryland was the beating heart of that organization. She was the secretary, the organizer of the warehouse, and a social worker without credentials. She screened clients. She listened compassionately, and she connected people with resources. There were many others that worked countless hours, but do want to know why Maryland worked so hard? It was because she was one of the one million displaced people from the storm.

You know, last week we were reminded that God is God and we are not, and we were encouraged to think of our brokenness as an asset and not a flaw. Today I want to flip that script a little and say that our brokenness is not what defines us. It is our response to the God who loves us into wholeness.

You, who are God’s beloved, are one in a million! Together we represent those who may have felt washed up and washed out but are instead ready to respond to the love of God with our love for one another, and even more so for those standing outside in need of healing and hope.

As we gather around the table to celebrate the brokenness of Christ for the world, let us remember that we, too, are the body of Christ; we, too, offer healing; we, too, proclaim the good news. Have you not seen? Have you not heard? We are here to follow Jesus, who leaves healing in his wake, and thanks be to God for that. And let all of God's people say, "Alleluia! Amen!"

Clay Pots

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Thu, 01 Feb 2024 21:40:00 +0000

2 Corinthians 4:5-7; Jeremiah 18:1-6

[This sermon was delivered by The Rev. Barry W. Chance (© 2024) on January 28, 2024, at the Downtown Presbyterian Church on the occasion of my installation as their pastor.]

For the first fifteen years of my ministry, I did a lot of work with people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. In my first congregation, I was the pastor to twenty-five adults with some kind of disability and led a Bible study with them each week. I wound up serving on the board—as the president of the board of an international non-profit that published that Bible study curriculum in English and Spanish with employees in the United States, Columbia, and Canada and served as a theological author and editor for them or a few years after I rotated off the board. I served on the board of Evergreen Life Services, a Presbyter-related non-profit that provides services to 1,300 individuals and their families in seven states including here in the Nashville area. That is actually what first brought me to your fine city and as an aside, I’d be glad to talk to any of you about how you can get involved in this important mission of the Church of Jesus Christ.

Now I say all of that not to brag and tell you how important or virtuous I am. Rather, I tell it to you so that I can also tell you how it almost didn’t happen. You see, I came to that ministry entirely by providence. It certainly wasn’t my own doing. While I was engaged in that ministry people would often ask me what brought me to it. Now, for many people doing this work, they can tell the story of a sibling, a cousin, an uncle, or a neighbor with a disability who opened their eyes and hearts to this work. I have no such story. Indeed, until I became the pastor of that congregation I had hardly known or interacted with anyone from that community. Indeed, the closest I came to being prepared for this work was in seminary where the member of the church where I regularly attended a Taizé service told me that she had a ministry at a group home near the seminary and asked if I would be interested in helping to which I said: “No, I don’t think that’s my call!”

And that is how the call of God often comes into our lives! We imagine that we are the potter—in control of our lives and the shape that they will take. But we are not the potter—not the masters of the universe—not the shapers of our own destiny. We are the clay and God often has other plans for our lives as is at work shaping and molding us for those purposes. Sometimes re-shaping, re-forming, and re-inventing us for a new chapter of our lives that we would never have imagined.

Now I am a person who likes to be in control. I have a colleague who harasses me about that fact and how if I end up on a committee you can probably start counting the days before I wind up chairing it. In fact, a number of years ago he and I were talking about my son’s Cub Scout Pack and he said, “I’m going to put a reminder on my calendar to ask you in six months if you’re the Cubmaster yet.” I called him four months later and told him he could delete that reminder because it happened ahead of schedule.

I am a person who likes to be in control which is why I have to preach this sermon to myself sometimes, “I am not the potter; I am the clay.” Say that with me…

“I am not the potter; I am the clay.”

But then what? Remembering that we are the clay means that the task of ministry is not so much to plan for what we will be but to imagine and open ourselves up to the cosmos of possibilities that God has in store for us. It means being pliable—moldable—flexible—to how God might be shaping us in ways that we could never imagine. It means rooting ourselves in prayer, and study, and worship, and meditation, and service so that we might embrace the mystery of what we are becoming as we are shaped and formed by the One who shaped and formed all things into being.

As we do, let us remember that we are clay and that once formed—once hardened—once fired—clay comes brittle—fragile—breakable. The Apostle Paul tells the Church in Corinth that this is a feature not a flaw in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He tells them, he tells us, that the Good News of what God is doing in the world is like treasure in clay jars—something valuable, priceless—carried and protected in something ordinary—in earthen vessels which are fragile and easily break under pressure. Paul tells us that this is part of the point—for God’s Love was known in the world through another earthen vessel that bore the scars and hurts and tears of that pressure—Jesus Christ whom we worship and adore. The Way of Christ in the world is the way of the vulnerable and so, by definition, it can only be carried in clay jars, in cracked pots that are who will demonstrate that same kind of vulnerable love to the world. Paul tells us that this is a feature of the Gospel of Jesus Christ—it is carried by imperfect people (and he knew a thing or two about being imperfect) so that it may be clear that it is not about them—but about God who shaped, molded, and sent them.

Today in this congregation we install new leaders to guide us in the Way of Christ. Imperfect people who will sometimes crack under pressure and make mistakes. Let us remember that this is a feature, not a flaw—for it helps us, it helps them, remember this fundamental truth:

They are not the potter; they are the clay!

For it helps us point towards a greater reality of what the Church of Jesus Christ is—it is made up of Cracked Pots (and a few Crackpots too!). It is made up of imperfect people, of sinners, of people who have been wounded and people have wounded others—of people who have dedicated themselves to following the Way of Jesus Christ—the Way of Vulnerable Love in the world it and its members and its leaders are flawed—are scarred—and with those flaws, with those scars, we point towards a greater reality.

That is what I tried to explain to my friend Helen many years ago. Helen’s parents were mission workers in Central America in the 80s and 90s so she had grown up both very sheltered in a Christian Bubble of sorts but also very worldly living in the midst of the violence and dirty wars of that era. She came to the United States to go to college and struggled to find a church where she felt like she could stay for any amount of time. She would start worshipping at one drawn by their prophetic witness against the death penalty but then would overhear two members gossiping about another in the narthex. So, she moved to another church where she was drawn to their meditation groups and contemplative service but then left it when she discovered that one of the elders was going through a divorce and there were accusations of infidelity. This continued as she went from congregation to congregation always in search of perfection.

She and I had many conversations about how such a place does not exist—about how that is not even the point of the Church of Jesus Christ because Christ was fragile, human, and vulnerable – so too are we who follow him.

We live in an age where many have rejected the Church because of its imperfection. "They don't practice what they preach,” they say, “They're a bunch of crooked people that go around talking to other people about how to straighten up."

To them, I say: Exactly–you get it—we can only talk about what we know.

When that accusation is made like it is a bad thing, it tells me that the speaker fundamentally misunderstands the nature of the Church.

We can't really blame them though–for we as Church-people have done our fair share of misunderstanding as well. We have sought perfection and tried to mask our own flaws. We have not shared the grace that we have received. We have called others to confess while not confessing the hurts that we have wrought in the world (and the Church has much to confess). When we have done that, we have told the world that we think that we are the potter instead of the clay.

The question is this: Are we…

A Menagerie of the Righteous or a Refuge for the Lost?

A Hospital for Sinners or a Memorial for Saints?

A Display Case of the Flawless or the Irregulars Rack at the Outlet Store?

A Museum of the Faithful or the Salvage Bin of the Fallen?

The potter or the clay?

The way in which we answer that question matters for it fundamentally defines who we are.

Say it with me one more time, “I am not the potter, I am the clay.”

That is Good News, for it means that you are not Christ—you are not expected the redeem the world. And yet, the Resurrected Christ lives in you—the life-giving power of God not just for you but for you to share. Lest you ever think that you are worthless. You are not. For God has deposited in you great treasure–God is invested in you.

We are clay pots, the Good News is that God gives us permission to be who we are–broken and beaten down.

We are clay pots, and when we admit and demonstrate our brokenness, we proclaim that the Church is a place for broken people.

We are clay pots. When we admit and demonstrate our brokenness, we proclaim to all those who doubt God's love and our love…

That God is in your corner

And that, as the Church, we are in your corner too.

We are clay pots, and the Good News, says Paul, is that out of our cracks, God's glory shines.

We are clay pots, and the good news is that stored in these broken, leaky buckets is Christ, waiting to RISE and for that, thanks be to God!

Following Jesus

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Thu, 01 Feb 2024 21:16:00 +0000

[This meditation was delivered online in lieu of in-person worship due to adverse winter weather. It was preceded by reading the scripture in the form of Lectio Divina.]

Whatever gift God has given you through this time of reflection was for you, even if it was only a time of silence.

The word that settled on my heart was “follow.” Maybe that’s because it was repeated 3 times. Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him; they left Zebedee and the hired help and they followed him.

Maybe I just like the word "follow" because “followers of the way of Jesus” is what the early believers were called well before they were called “Christians.”

We usually call these first few “Disciples,” and sometimes we act as though that title, Disciple, only describes 12 men who lived about 2,000 years ago. Maybe that is because there is some shred of humility and dower Calvinism in us that makes us feel unworthy of the title. Maybe it’s because it seems like a higher level of faith than we want to engage. It’s like being an Elder or something morally compelling and totally inconvenient!

Maybe it’s because the idea of becoming a disciple implies giving up control. Maybe it’s too close to the word discipline. Maybe it is even because the word disciple has been used to describe fanatics who have caused harm in the name of faith.

Our text doesn’t actually use the word disciple, but it does in chapter 2. In Jesus’ day, the word might also have been “adherents.” The Rabbinic tradition held that those who wanted instruction would adhere themselves to a teacher. They would become an adherent - literally bound to the teacher to become a part of the teaching - with the hopes of becoming a Rabbi in the same tradition when the teacher departed or became too old.

What was different about Jesus is that he chose his disciples. Jesus called Simon and Andrew mid-cast, and they came and followed him. Jesus called James and John and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired help. I’ve always wondered how Zebedee felt about that. Obviously, he was more successful than Simon and Andrew because he had hired help - but these are his sons. In the past I’ve felt bad for him, but now I am not so sure. Jesus came to tell James and John that the Kingdom of God was at hand and that he would help them to “fish for people.”

Ol’ Zeb was not called to be a disciple because someone still had to catch real fish for real mouths, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It does make me wonder, though. How many of us are called to keep fishing, and how many of us are called to let down our nets and follow Jesus as an adherent - fusing our very lives with his teachings and becoming the fulfillment of the promises that he made? And is that truly an either/or?

I hope not. Hopefully, following Jesus and working for a living are not mutually exclusive. Truly, I think there may be nets within each of us that need to be set down in order to pick up the nets we are properly called to. For if we are commanded to go and make disciples of all nations in Matthew 28:19, surely we must, ourselves, be Christ’s disciples.

Admittedly, the New Testament does throw this word around a lot, sometimes referring to the 12, sometimes to curious followers in the crowd, and sometimes to those who believe in Jesus as the Messiah.

While I believe the answer is D) All of the above, I think our reading has some special insight in verse 15, where Jesus comes to town calling out, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

There is another story that the lectionary pairs with Mark 1, that our children have been studying in Sunday School, and it is the story of Jonah. If you haven’t read it in a while – spoiler – Jonah’s message to the Ninevites was to repent…and they did! They turned from self-gratification toward God’s glorification. And God... changed... God’s... mind. Jonah, the reluctant prophet - all covered in fish goo, got up and spoke the word of God to them, “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” End game. Boom. You’re done. Thus says the Lord, and so say we all!

And they heard it. And they – as a people, from smallest to tallest and all their cows and goats – repented. And God changed – God changed God’s mind.

It makes me wonder. Could we? I doubt that many of us think God is poised to strike a world that is already bent on self-destruction, but could we change God’s perspective of the harm done in God’s name if we own it and truly repent of it? Could our repentance of full participation in a culture of idolatry allow us to participate more completely in the Kin-dom of God? Could it be that we are being invited to lay down our nets – which aren’t catching anything anyway – so that we can pick up the net that Jesus has placed at our feet? Could it be that God awaits our repentance and invites us to participate in changing the present form of this world?

That’s what the Apostle, Paul, said was happening in 1 Corinthians 7:31, “The present form of this world is passing away.” Guess what? Just like the melting ice and snow outside, the present form of this world is always passing away. The present form of our institutions, even our very buildings and structures are always passing away. The opportunity to follow Christ – to become more disciplined – and to offer discipleship is always passing away, but it is also always passing our way.

As we follow the way of Jesus – as we adhere to the call of Jesus to repentance – we have been given the opportunity to be a part of what God is doing, even as the form of the world changes around us.

And what does all of that look like? It looks like a world where all serve each other - a world where the voiceless are given a voice, the friendless have comfort, and the invitation to receive and respond to God’s grace is constant! It looks like a world that expresses the love of God for all of creation! It looks like a world where people give glorify to God over and above themselves.

In the end, as we move into a new season of ministry with new church leaders, what matters is that we follow in the way of Jesus, together, proclaiming the Kingdom of God – which is both present and yet to come! I’ll leave you to think about what that might look like in your life, and in ours together, as we continue in ministry together.

Come See

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 14 Jan 2024 08:18:00 +0000

1 Samuel 3:1-20 • John 1:43-51

Last Sunday, we celebrated Epiphany with the Magi, and I challenged you to consider the importance of curiosity and expectation in our lives of faith together and individually. In the afterglow of the star and the expectation that Jesus is God’s self-revelation, John’s Gospel has us jumping straight into the ministry of Jesus in Galilee.

Of course, John’s gospel is not concerned with mangers or Magi, but it is concerned with revelation. John’s gospel is all about revelation, relationship, and belief. Verse 1 starts with, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… 4In him was life, and that life was the light of all humankind. 5The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

The text goes on to emphasize how God has come to abide with us in the person of Jesus, and it is followed immediately by the introduction of John the Baptizer as the herald of Jesus. After his testimony about Jesus, everything starts to happen pretty quickly. Verse 29 starts with “the next day,” and John saw Jesus. Verse 35, “The next day,” Jesus invites two of John’s disciples (Peter and Andrew) to “come and see” where he is staying and where he is going. Then in verse 43, “The next day,” Jesus goes to Galilee and invites Philip to follow him, and Philip invites Nathaniel to “come and see.”

If you received our Friday E-votion, you may recall that I mentioned one of my favorite Louisiana phrases, “Come see.” It’s a simple phrase often used with children, but it also works well when there is a communication breakdown between marital partners. For adults, it is a way to say, “I just have to show you.” More than a command, though, “Come see” is a promise and an invitation, and that’s what we see over and over in these passages.

There is definitely more to the story with Nathaniel’s super quick transformation, but I think it’s important to walk with him for a minute. In the past I’ve thought of him as being aloof and a little sarcastic, but what if we take the advice of the Magi and see him as curiously expectant? “The Messiah is from Nazareth? This I gotta see!”

I love the way that Jesus calls him out in v47 with, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.” Nathaniel was probably a little defensive about this when he said, “How do you know me?” It’s not really clear why Jesus’ response about seeing Nathaniel under the fig tree triggered his immediate devotion, but something about it confirmed his expectations about Jesus. Then Jesus said, “You think that’s something? Wait until the stairway to heaven opens up!”

This was, of course, not a reference to Led Zeplin, but rather to Genesis 28:12 where Jacob saw the ladder to heaven and received the promise of God that all people will be blessed by his offspring. Jesus was re-interpreting that promise for those who would “come see” what God was doing in and through him, which even includes you and me.

What about you and me, though? How are we to “Come see?” Are we like Nathaniel, waiting for a Messiah who checks all the boxes, yet ready to be surprised? Are we blissfully unaware, like Samuel? Has our vision dimmed like Eli’s, and are we willing and able to receive bad news from God as faithfully as the good?

Perhaps there is another day that I might make some comparisons to Eli’s dimmed vision, but I feel like we have a pretty strong sense of God’s call for us as a congregation. Results may vary individually – and I’m as likely to miss out on God’s intentions as anyone – but I feel pretty good about the work that we are doing and have yet to do.

If anything, I think the thing that connects our experience with Eli’s lack of vision, and for that matter Nathaniel’s question about Nazareth, is the difficult space we are in culturally. Christian Faith™ has been co-opted by nationalism. Theologies of power have left a trail of spiritual and other forms of abuse. Questions of belief are assumed to be answered with dogmatic surety while the beauty and diversity of God’s creation become more and more consumable if they are to have any value at all. Where is the church that is the Body of Christ in all of that?

Can you see how someone might say, “Can anything good come out of the church?” I sure can. The good news is that we can be like Philip. The good news is that even Eli, whose sight was dim, could tell when the Lord was calling Samuel. Can we be like that, even in our place of need?

I imagine that someone has been that way for you at some point. Take a moment and think about that person – your Philip; your Eli. Maybe it was a parent or a grandparent; maybe it was a child; maybe you have yet to hear it and you’ve come today to be told that you are God’s beloved, and God has good things in store for you!

My Philip was a person named Michelle, who was a mentor and friend when I needed one most. She was someone who recognized God’s work in and through me and empowered me to do more. Through the years our paths seem to continually cross, even without social media, at the right time. We met when she was an intern from seminary and I had just started out as a youth director. Years later I randomly ran into her and her family at a park in Savannah, GA, although she was serving a church in NC, and received exactly the care and counsel I needed while I was in between called positions. Sometime later I found a water bottle from her congregation that had been left on a bus in Cuba. I took it as a sign, whether it truly was or not.

I guess what I’m saying is that sometimes we all need something tangible to help our belief. More than just the words, “Come see,” there must be something to see. While I’m sure that God’s grace and mercy can be found just about anywhere if you open yourself up to it, I have this hope that the church is a place where we set the bar for the rest of the world. It may be as simple as teaching Sunday School, or singing in the choir, or just calling a church member who wasn’t at church. My hope is that these things are not just activities but also opportunities to come see what the Lord is all about.

One place that we see what the Lord is up to here is in the values we hold dear, and I just happened to look at the values we list on our website as I was preparing this week for Sunday School. I’m not going to read through it now, but I hope you’ll take time to look at it. I gotta say, between this and the God-sized vision through Project Thrive, you guys write some pretty amazing statements!

There is one phrase I do want to lift up. “As a diverse community, we seek to intentionally embody God’s radically inclusive and transformative love for everyone. With love and grace, we are called as a community to grow together as a voice for justice and peace – each as we are, with our unique human stories of joy and struggle.”

It is important that we say things like this, not for the sake of dogma, but for the expectation of revelation, relationship, and belief that these words create. In the same way, it is important that we have a little rainbow flag on our website. It is important because it tells those who have been and are being abused and persecuted by those who say they speak for God that this place is safe.

I can tell you from friends and family that I know that even if a person from the LGBTQ community never darkens the door, that little bitty flag is a beacon of hope that says, “Come see.”

I realize that statements on websites, no matter how well worded, only go so far. In fact, they are meaningless without action. That’s why I want to thank those who work so hard for our Saturday Loaves and fish meals, and I want to encourage you to continue inviting people from the community to come see Jesus in the Fellowship Hall.

Jesus was very active this week, and it’s a good thing as cold as it’s getting. Jesus brought bags of blankets from our siblings at First Presbyterian that we handed out. Jesus served a hot meal and cleaned up. Jesus looked after her friend’s belongings beside a table. Jesus spoke to me about his experience of selling papers and moving into an apartment. Jesus swept up shells from hard-boiled eggs their friends had left behind, and Jesus picked up a guitar and sang about getting into heaven through belief in God’s presence here and now. In a lot of ways, as old and young with a variety of hues and origins worked together, it seemed like we were already there.

I hope you feel the same in this place, here and now, and I pray that God may yet give you the vision that you need – if you are still longing for it – or that God will give you the courage to invite someone else along if you feel that you have found the Messiah yourself. Next Sunday we’ll talk a little more about the call of discipleship. For now, know that God longs to be revealed to you. You are beloved by God, and the beliefs we hold dear will not only save us but will become a beacon of hope for all who dwell in darkness. At least I pray it may be so for the church, and for you, and even me; and to God be the glory now and always. Amen!

Curiosity and Expectation

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 07 Jan 2024 08:26:00 +0000

Isaiah 60:1-6 • Matthew 2:1-12

I would like you to take a moment and think of your favorite movie. On the count of three, I want you to shout the name of your favorite movie. One. Two. Three.

Excellent! I learned so much about you all just now! Do you want to know what mine is?

It’s Casablanca. While I could talk about why I’ll just highlight one important scene at the beginning of the film. For those who don’t know, Casablanca was set during World War II in a town where numerous Europeans are stranded after having sought refuge from Nazi occupation. Rick, an ex-pat from the US, is running his cafe, as he does, and is asked by Bougarti to hold two letters of transfer that will allow anyone safe passage to America.

Bougarti tells Rick that he hopes he will be more impressed with him after the lucrative sale of these letters of transfer. After Rick notes a recent murder of two German couriers carrying the same kind of letters, he says, “Why yes, Bougarti, I am rather impressed with you.” implying his new understanding of the depth of Bougarti’s depravity.

I share this with you because of the idea of having an epiphany, or a new understanding, about someone or something. I also think this scene illustrates something I believe our scriptures proclaim, which is the role of curiosity and expectation in our lives together and in our lives of faith. Regardless of our differences, abilities, and proclivities, a common thread of our human experience is that we are hard-wired to expect certain outcomes.

Philosophers have even argued that reality itself is made of two things: stimulus and response. That may be true, but I sure hope there is more to it than that. Stimulus and response – action and reaction – certainly take care of our lived experience of expectation. You might even say that, as technology continues to advance, we are training ourselves – mind, body, and soul – to focus on expected outcomes, perhaps even to force those outcomes by aligning with those that think like us rather than asking, “Why does that person think and feel the way they do?”

There are times when we need to align with like-minded and like-hearted folks. We need to be able to gather to call out injustice in the world. We need to gather to cry out to God together and to seek God’s mercy and encouragement together. We can do that on our own, but doing it together helps us to know that we are not alone in the universe.

Saying that reminds me of a mom I knew in a church where I served as an intern during seminary. She told me about her teenage son, a gentle-giant linebacker-sized kid, who would cry out in the night when he was a baby. One exasperated night she looked over and saw his hand sticking up out of the crib. She reached over and let him reflexively grab her hand, and he stopped crying immediately.

Sometimes all we need is to know we aren’t alone in the universe. Sometimes we just need to let someone else know the same is true for them. It takes curiosity on either end of that relationship, and curiosity requires us to value the struggle, or the comfort, of the other person.

Here’s where I see these things in the text. Isaiah chapter 60 is a part of the section of texts that scholars refer to as “third Isaiah.” This section was written around the time of the return of the Hebrew people from captivity in Babylon, and it was written with some expectation that things would be different. This time, other nations will come to Jerusalem because it will be as a light in the darkness!

“Arise,” says the prophet in v1, “your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” Isaiah goes on to make promises about what they can expect, and it includes the return of children – many of whom were born in captivity – and the gift of wealth by other nations. It’s important to note a few things here.

One is that this is all the Lord’s doing. This idea of shining is a literal reflection of being in conversation with God, much like Moses in the tent of meeting in Exodus 34. Listening and responding to God’s commands was expected to rub off on them like some kind of holy radiation that gave life and meaning to the world through them.

Another is to say that this did not exactly happen the way that the prophet promised. The people of Judah did return, but they found many of their lands ravaged by war and they remained a vassal state under various regional powers throughout the time of the writing of the Older and Newer Testaments.

For many of us, particularly in Western Christianity, this text has been reduced to a premonition about the birth of Jesus. Don’t get me wrong, it seems pretty clear that Matthew was well-versed in the law and the prophets, but I think we can get a little more mileage out of Isaiah if we take it for what it is. What it is, is an expectation of hope!

It is a reminder of identity and purpose for the people of Judah that is not based on their shortcomings but instead on the goodness of God. For those in the congregation who are under 50, the prophet is giving them the “Pink” treatment and reminding them how perfect they are in the eyes of God. If you’re over 50, I think there’s a story my mom used to tell me about someone saying, “God don’t make no junk.”

Whatever your point of reference is, I don’t want you to miss out on the voice of the prophet telling you that God can still be seen in and through you. God wants to be seen in and through you, and God will be seen in and through you. That is something that you can expect, and it is not dependent on your worth in worldly terms. It is all because of your worth in the eyes of God.

It may be that you never see it happen, just like the people of Judah, but it will come to pass. I think, and this part is my opinion, that since this was written to a people of faith we are more likely to see it in one another as a people of faith. In fact, the world around us is more likely to see it in our life together as a community of faith.

That doesn’t mean that the smallest gesture of kindness is any less valuable. It just means that there is a reason that we come together that is beyond our personal needs, even though it meets our need to be loved and to know we are not alone.

Mathew’s gospel was written with this in mind, and with full knowledge of the promise of Isaiah of light bursting forth from Bethlehem, the city of David. Isaiah called for camels and gifts of wealth from parts in the East, and the wise men came to a place bathed in light from what they believed to be a new star in the sky.

They were driven by expectation and curiosity. You might even say the same of Herod, who heard about these wise guys and asked them to do some reconnaissance. By the way, I’ve heard it said that you know they were men because women would have asked for directions and arrived on time to help deliver the baby and would’ve brought more practical gifts like extra swaddling clothes and some food.

Again, regardless of what they brought and how wise or foolish they might be, there is more to this than a fulfilled expectation. For starters, whether intended or not, they came in calling for political upheaval. In verse two they ask, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” and King Herod says, “King of the what? That’s my job!” Verse three goes on to say that he was frightened, “and all of Jerusalem with him.”

That’s probably in the category of things going with the nation as they go with it’s leaders. Even in a stable democracy, a twitchy hand at the wheel can create great harm, and those with less power are always the ones who pay the most for it. A nervous king means a nervous nation. We find out why in Matthew 2:16, but we’ll save the destruction of the innocent for another day.

For now, it’s important to know that the ones whose curiosity was motivated by reverence were the ones who found the Christ child. Their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh are said to represent the revelation of God in the babe that was born.

Some say they recognize Jesus as Prophet, Priest, and King. Some say they represent the sovereignty of God, the restoration God provides, and the sacrificial love of Jesus. It strikes me that the gifts were somewhat practical since they needed resources to escape to Egypt. Frankincense and Myrrh were both said to have been used medicinally, so it may have benefitted them with a newborn babe and a postpartum mom!

What matters most to us and to our tradition of faith is this: God revealed God’s self in the most unlikely of ways, and yet it checked every box of expectation and anticipation. Those with power and wealth who held onto it for the sake of holding onto it were blind to the activity of God in their midst, but not so with those who remained curious and who gave what they had out of reverence and love.

Friends, this still happens today. While I’m not usually one to draw a line in the sand (because it means drawing a line between me and Jesus) it’s important to consider whether we are on the side of those who tremble with the powers that be or those driven by curiosity and the love that helps us to see God in you and God in me.

Stay curious, for you are God’s beloved, and there is yet more to be revealed – even here, even now. Amen. Amen. And again I say, Amen!

This Is For All Y'all!

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Mon, 25 Dec 2023 13:01:00 +0000

Luke 2:1-20

Tonight is a night of proclamation and hope! Tonight is truly a night of expectation and wonder! Tonight is the night that we experience the pure and unadulterated joy of celebrating the birth of Jesus. And all of us have received the same profound gift. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.

This phrase took on new meaning for me a few years ago when I saw the play, “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.” I heard these words in a new way when the young girl playing the angel – who had a star shaved into the side of her head – pointed a fairy wand into the crowd and said repeatedly, “Unto you!” She did it with such urgency and sincerity that I realized that this message was for me as much as it was for her.

It mattered for me to receive it, and it mattered for her to say it. She said it for the whole audience, as much as she said it to each of us.

I’d like to unpack the gift of those words a little tonight. I know it’s early for opening gifts, but indulge me because this gift is too good to wait! The Shepherds were the first to receive it, and they gave this proclamation to Mary, and then to everyone they met.

This one that was born was the Messiah, God’s anointed one; the one God had chosen to be revealed through; the one who would offer salvation.

This is one of the places where I think the “you” in scripture should be rightly translated as either “y’all” or “all y’all.” It’s not just because I’m Southern. It’s because we need to know that this message is for us as individuals who are connected to others and also for all people everywhere.

And that reminds me that the other thing that we need to lift out of this box of words and view with wonder is what it means that Jesus is the Christ who offers salvation. One has to wonder how much of that the shepherds got right. Even they were looking for a political solution or a military warrior king. Did they hear the words “great joy for all people” and really expect it to be for all people?

One can only hope.

I’m sure they got it as right as they were able, like most of us, but there is a moment of transformation that takes place through them that I don’t want to miss on our way to the manger. Imagine these shepherds settling down for the night, and they see the heavens torn open! You see, they thought the sky was a giant dome that held back and occasionally gifted water to the land. They had no concept of cosmos or universe, and that dome was a veil between them and the holiness of God.

There’s a great song about this by Tyler Childers that one of you recently shared with me. It’s called Luke 2:8-10, and he sings from the perspective of a shepherd. He sings about a woman on fire who seems happy about it and a sky opening up for more. The shepherd sings,

“Lo, enough, hark, I could've sworn
I heard a shout, what's going on?
It's closer, it's coming our way
Daniel, get up, gather the sheep
Tell them there's no time to sleep
My God, it's the end of the world”

And they were “soer afraid” indeed. The beautiful thing is that they did not remain terrorized. Scripture says that they were amazed. Then what did they do? They went to see if it was true. Then they told everyone what they heard, “Unto all y’all is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

In a sense, this was the end of a particular worldview. Realizing that God is active and present when we’ve been going it all alone for so long could seem like the end of the world. At the same time, there are so many events that can make us feel that same terror, regardless of what we think about God. There are life transitions that always carry loss with them, and there are actual losses of loved ones, relationships, and ways of being in the world that can feel like our “world” is just not the same.

What comfort can we receive from these shepherds, these social and political outsiders, that might give us comfort and joy? What did they do? I think the first thing they did was give thanks that they were alive! The next thing they did was to look for evidence of God’s activity, and then they told everyone who would listen even at the risk of sounding insane.

How about you and me, though? What will our proclamation be? Will it be about a God that enters into the chaos of our lives, the brokenness of our hearts, and the hopefulness of a people who still expect God to be active and present? I hope so.

Maybe it will be about recognizing God’s love for us and the claim it places on our hearts. Then all that we do is a response to the gift we have received – the gift we celebrate at this table again and again and again.

You know, somehow it has not occurred to me in the past that this sacrament is the first gift of Christmas. The first gift is from God, and it received from this table. So, Good Christian friends, let us rejoice in heart and soul and voice that Christ was born for this. Christ was born to restore what is broken and to let us know that even if our proclamation has been off the mark, restoration is still possible.

We see that at the table together, and it plays out in our lives as we demonstrate what we believe. Because, just like the angel, it matters to us to say it just as much as it may matter to the one who hears it. So, this Christmas – and the days that follow, let us proclaim the birth of Christ by forgiving an offense, by letting go of old wounds, by being kind for the sake of being kind, by welcoming a stranger, by appreciating the beauty of God’s creation, by laughing, by weeping with those that weep, by speaking our love again and again, and by recognizing our need to love as much as our need to be loved.

Yes! Let us celebrate the God who makes all things new; the God who breaks open the heavens for shepherds, and even leaves it up to us to proclaim that salvation has come. Even here, even now. And to God be the glory now and always. Amen!

What Makes A House A Home?

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 24 Dec 2023 06:25:00 +0000

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16 • Luke 1:46b-55

If you are struggling with the idea of whether to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, especially during Advent, I’ve got a new one for you. What about Merry Almost Christmas? That is the title and the chorus of a song written by a friend of mine. It’s a song about the blessing of the time before Christmas, the time that we in the church call Advent (which doesn’t quite have the same ring to it), and it’s a song about celebrations, reunions, and homecomings.

Of course, the classic of that genre is “No Place Like Home for the Holidays.” Admittedly that one has been a little tender for me this year with my household divided as it is geographically. Having my family here today reminds me that home truly is where the heart is. It does make me wonder though, what makes a house a home?

With a quick search of the question, I found a survey of homeowners in the UK from 2018 which showed that about a third of those that responded think of the place they live in as a building, whereas the rest thought of it as a home. 50% of respondents said security was a factor in hominess. 57% said happiness makes a house a home. Only 22% said it had to have a big telly!

A more recent survey of US homeowners from 2020 said that having your own bed was important, which I find interesting. 48% of respondents agree with Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory that they must have their spot on the couch, and 79% feel that something is always left undone around the house.

Decorating is a factor in both of these lists, and there are plenty of big box and warehouse stores built around the idea that something always needs fixin’ and as stated by the incomparable Olympia Dukakis, in the classic, Steel Magnolias, “The only thing that separates us from animals is our ability to accessorize.”

Adornments certainly make a space feel more “at home,” and some of you have noted how quickly I personalized my office, but something that has made me feel “at home” in the church is our offering of hospitality to the Contributor. One of the joys of having my office so close to the Contributor’s office is that I can listen in from time to time on their care for their vendors. I usually can’t hear the vendor’s response, but I can hear the staff person ask the vendor where they’ve been selling papers and where they are staying.

Contributor staff members never press for details, but it’s a way to check in on the vendors. I must say that it is hard not to consider them as I think about houses and homes. If you have not visited their website in a while, I’d encourage you to review it. There’s a great video on the “programs” page with several vendors that say things like “Nashville is my town” and “We live here.” It reminds me that there are those whose home is a street, and it reminds me to say that there are people without housing, the unhoused if you will, who may not be homeless.

I don’t mean to elevate being unhoused to a virtue, but I think our language matters in relation to human dignity. Clearly, we want people to have housing – and I’ll go so far as to say that I believe that housing is a human right – which is one of the reasons we partner with the Contributor and serve Loaves and Fish meals on Saturdays. By the way, if you did not know, 70% of the vendors that sell papers for more than six months have transitioned to permanent housing.

I say all of this because there are activities in the church that some of you may not be as directly involved in, and I think we need to stop and celebrate them. Likewise, I can’t help but think of the church as our home for faith, our place of security, hospitality, and happiness.

As I read the scriptures I am also reminded how important it is to remember that the purpose of the building, and each person in it, is to glorify God. As good as it feels to say that this is our place of security, hospitality, and happiness, there are a lot of places that can offer those things. What makes this place a home for faith?

In 2 Samuel we hear from the Prophet Nathan, who first gives David the double thumbs up and then says, “Actually, God said, ‘Just who do you think you are, building a house for me? Twelve tribes, did I ask for a house? No! Where do you think I’ve been all this time? Who brought you out of the fields, shepherd boy? Tell you what. I’ll build you a house, a line, a family…without end.”

As followers of the way of Jesus, we understand this promise to be fulfilled in Jesus, but it’s worth noting that Mary’s song acknowledges a deeper commitment by God stretching back to Abraham. God’s commitment to David is no different than it has been and will be because it is in God’s character to be faithful to God’s promises.

What we find in this particular expression of God’s commitment is a reminder that God is not distant and passive. God is active and present, maybe not in a manipulative, chessboard kind of way but God is the source and the reason for David’s success, and God’s intention for God’s people results in their state of community and solidarity.

The other thing we know from the larger narrative is that David will not complete the temple, if for no other reason than to be clear that the temple was for God’s glory and not for his. That temple, this temple, and any other before or since are only holy in that they declare something greater than the architect or financier or founding members could imagine, and it causes us to move, like Mary, from “How can this be?” to “Wow, look what we’re a part of!”

At this point in the story Mary has gotten past, “How can this be?” and she’s moved on to the proof of her pregnancy offered by Gabriel in 1:36, “your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.”

Mary, of course, says, “Let it be so with me,” but I’ve always wondered about that conversation with Joseph before she heads out to see Elizabeth. Unfortunately, we don't have that, but clearly, he was supportive. What we do have is, as noted by @kaitlynschiess, “two pregnant women celebrating their new motherhood by passionately discussing the coming overthrow of every earthly empire.”

There is, of course, more to it than that, and in Mary’s song, we hear repeatedly that God is faithful, that God shelters God’s people, and that God is actively working to turn the tables on the powerful in favor of the powerless. Mary sings as though these things have already happened, and in a sense they have happened, and they are happening, and they will happen.

Surely as the world turns on its axis, the world is about to turn toward God’s favor! Every sunrise and every sunset reminds us that God is faithful and that we have been given another day to give God the glory. How do we do that at work; at school; in the day-to-day grind of life?

There are those, of course, who live their lives like a football player pointing to the sky and giving credit to God for every yard they’ve gained. I must say that I admire those who have the confidence of faith to praise God for everything from a parking space to a delicious meal. I certainly try to do that in my heart, but I’m also aware that there are those so wounded by hypocrisy that they can’t hear my praise without feeling terror.

A public witness is still important and valuable, and I think Mary’s example demonstrates how we can have a private witness that finds completion in community. The text doesn’t tell us much more about their time together, but we know that she stayed with Elizabeth up until the time she was about to give birth. Their time together demonstrates the importance of relationships in our response to God’s grace.

If belief in the faithfulness of God is the foundation of our home for faith, then reciprocal relationships of care create the framework. One of the places I have seen this most clearly is through the work of Living Waters for the World and the PC(USA) Cuba Partner Network. That’s probably a lot to get your head around, so I’ll just tell you about Nell. She was part of a delegation from the Presbytery of South Louisiana that went to Cuba to restore some old relationships and build some new ones, too.

At the time, Nell wasn’t actually a member of our congregation – and she still has some reservations about faith – but she spoke a little Spanish and she was passionately curious about the lives of the people of Cuba. Nell had a tendency, during downtimes, to go exploring on her own, and a few of us decided to make sure she always had a buddy.

She would strike up conversations with anyone, and I mean anyone! One such conversation was with an older woman who, on hearing that I was Nell’s pastor, took us to meet her pastor. We went behind a row of houses, and I began running worst-case scenarios in my head. We ended up in a little shack where there was a prayer meeting going on. After conversing about the water system we were partnering with another congregation to establish, I took a risk. I asked Nell to translate while he prayed for us and I prayed for them.

I gotta say, it was a holy moment not too much unlike the song of Mary. A PC(USA) pastor and a Pentecostal holiness pastor in a shack in the back of a village in Cuba gave glory to God through the voice of one with tenuous faith but great concern for God’s people. There are, of course, some obvious differences. Mary’s faith was not tenuous. Neither of the pastors was bearing the son of God…or so it may seem…

…unless you consider that God is active and present and in our midst; unless you consider that the thing that makes a shack or a street or a great and wonderful temple into a home for faith is how we use it to glorify God through relationships of care and mutuality.

You don’t have to go to Cuba to do that. You can probably do it just about anywhere. I can tell you it happens pretty regularly on Saturday mornings with our Loaves and Fish meals. I can tell you that God is glorified in the faithful attempts we make to glorify God together, but I don’t think that’s the end of faith. As I see it, David’s desire for a holy space was the beginning of something more than he could imagine. Mary’s song was the echo of what God has done and the announcement of what God is doing and will accomplish.

Mary’s very body became a holy space for God, and Elizabeth partnered with her to affirm and confirm what God was doing in and through her. Certainly, her child would bring about the reversal of tyranny, but not simply to make way for a new tyrant. The purpose of this birth was for us to know that God is active and present with us in our greatest trials and our simplest joys.

Perhaps it is just that simple. Perhaps the knowledge and expectation that God hears prayers in remote places and crowded halls may move us to long for the good in others such that we become the church that we have always longed to attend. Perhaps that happens anywhere that two or more are gathered in the name of the one who came to upend our bent desires for power and prestige.

The good news is that the world is always about to turn, and we are building on the solid ground of the faithfulness of God. The good news is that we have just a moment to wait before we unwrap presents and celebrate Jesus as our emanuel. In the holiness of that space, let our souls cry out as Mary, let us partner with one another as Elizabeth, and let us embrace the designs God has in mind that are far more than we can imagine, and let all of that be for one thing and one thing alone – all for the glory of God. Amen.

Waging Peace

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 10 Dec 2023 14:55:00 +0000

Isaiah 40:1-11 • 2 Peter 3:8-15a • Mark 1:1-8

Last Sunday we lit a candle for hope, and we talked about the hope we have in Jesus that is expressed through our “God-sized dream.” This dream is an expression of our identity and an expectation about what it means to live in the kin-dom – the household and family of God – which is both present and yet to be.

Today, our hope bears the fruit of peace. Amid busyness and conflict – amid wars and rumors of wars – we proclaim peace. I might even take it a step further to say that we wage peace. We are actively engaging in things that make for peace!

While that might mean creating safe spaces without conflict, I like the way Todd Parr defines it. He wrote a book for children called, The Peace Book, and it says things like, “Peace is everyone having socks to wear” and “Peace is everyone having a home” and “Peace is being who you are!”

I think we can all agree that these are things we are working on. Now, before I get too carried away with self-congratulation, I should say that I am speaking about the character of our congregation; our shared ideals; our faithful attempts to put belief into action together.

Pobody’s nerfect, sorry, nobody’s perfect, but we are always better together. I must say that the 99th annual Waffle Shop, and the Loaves and Fish meal that it supports all year long, are excellent examples. Not only was it a herculean effort by the congregation, but it engaged volunteers and staff from the Contributor – just as we do every Saturday.

Bear with me for a minute because I need to unpack that a little for anyone who is visiting or worshiping online, and I think it’s also good to say these things out loud to remind us how central they are to our identity as a people of God.

Every Saturday morning we offer a meal to those who are hungry (which we have to prepare for on Friday). Our guests are generally assumed to be people without housing. Some of them are vendors for the Contributor, which is a publication sold by those in poverty that assists them with life skills and, when possible, housing.

The Waffle Shop supported all of this, but it was also an expression of who we are as we engage the community. Most of our guests were there because they believe in the work we do, and some came into the sanctuary for their first breathtaking view of our sacred space. I want you to know that when I greeted them I told them something that one of you taught me during my first week about the most amazing feature of this sanctuary.

It isn’t the stained glass, the artistry, or the architecture. It isn’t the organ or the amazing Organist and Music Director. It certainly isn’t the brand-new preacher. It is you. It is the way God moves in and through you [and I’ll add this part] as you prepare to wage peace in the world.

Now, how do we do that? As people of the Reformed faith we start with scripture, and while we could spend all day exploring these readings; I believe that they could be summed up with a phrase from Julian of Norwich, a 15th-century mystic who had some fantastic visions in a near-death experience. She was never canonized as a saint, but many have regarded her as a wise and faithful guide through her words.

Most famously and succinctly, she wrote, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well..." As I see it, this phrase speaks of hope and expectation and a movement toward peaceful resignation. "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well..."

One of my favorite examples of this phrase in action is from a scene from the movie Men In Black (1997). A giant alien cockroach has just grabbed the female lead and jumped up into a window that is a good 20 feet off the ground. Will Smith’s character holds up a gun and tries to sound authoritative while saying, “Don’t worry - everything’s OK!” She responds, “What part of this is OK?!” He readjusts, “It’s gunna be OK!”

How many of us have looked up from a miserable situation and wanted to slug someone for telling us that everything will work out alright when we know it won't? It kind of reminds me of a friend who had served as a Navy Chaplain and told me some time ago what it was like to be seasick. He said, “At first you ask God to keep you alive, and then you become afraid that God will.”

I think this is how many of us feel when confronted with the world we live in, and yet we have this message of hope bearing the fruit of peace that says, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well...”

Mark’s Gospel gives it to us straight. Here is where the good news begins. It begins with the herald of the Messiah. It begins with an unorthodox itinerant Rabbi baptizing people in public, outside of the city, outside of Holy places - but in the river that Elijah parted with his robe before being swept into heaven by a chariot of fire (2Kings 1:8)!

First-century readers of Mark’s Gospel were clearly expected to see John as Elijah, the prophet who was supposed to return and announce the Messiah – God’s anointed One; the One who would save them from the bondage and oppression of the Romans. Surely this is the one spoken of by Malachi.

"Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse." (Malachi 4:5-6)

And so, "John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins." (Mark 1:4)

Repentance. Wait a minute. I thought this was Advent. Don’t we repent in Lent? Yes, but how else are we to prepare for the coming of the Lord than to repent? Taken literally, it means to turn around, or turn away, from sin. That is the beginning of the Gospel. Our hope begins in our ability to turn away from sin, and the peace we wage is rooted in the forgiveness we have already received. So, the saying is true, “You better be good for goodness sake,” right?

Yes, but here’s the thing about that. Sin isn’t just about vice. It’s not just about doing bad things. Sin is an orientation toward the self and away from God and others. Usually that results in doing bad things, but the core – the deeper issue – is the direction of our hearts.

The purpose of the prophet’s witness is to turn parent's hearts to their children and children’s to their parents – to prepare us for the coming of God. The purpose of the prophet’s witness is to announce that something better is on the way, and we need to stop a minute and look inwardly or we just might miss it!

It makes me wonder, what preparations are you making for Christmas? Have you decorated? Have you put up a tree? Is that what it’s all about? Maybe preparing for Christmas has nothing to do with boxes and bags or presents and tags. Maybe it is not limited to rituals and songs that pull our heartstrings – although those are certainly an important part!

Don’t get me wrong, I love me some lessons and carols, but I think the real work of preparing for Christmas is about examining our lives and deciding what is in the way of knowing and experiencing God.

What is like a mountain between you and God that needs to be brought down? What is like a valley that needs to be raised up? This is the work we do as we prepare to wage peace in a world that prefers conflict.

Of course, that assumes that we have some control over all that assails us, but what about when we don’t? When difficulties are thrust upon us – illnesses, job loss, friendships and relationships that are filled with tension and pain, the memories of times shared with a loved one – how can these be connected to repentance?

For this, I will turn once more to Julian of Norwich, who is said to have believed that sin was not so much about being wretched creatures as it was a product of being finite, limited beings. For her, sin was part of the process by which we learn of God’s love and providence.

Suffering, then, is simply a means to understand that God was with us in the suffering of Jesus. Suffering is simply an indicator that things are not yet what they will be.

"And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well..."

Now I’ll admit that 2 Peter’s version of “all shall be well” is a little more intimidating, and you could say the same about Isaiah’s attempt to comfort in which he says, “All people are like grass.” I would probably say it another way.

What I think they are getting at is this: there are only two permanent things; change and love. Everything changes except the love of God. Even our understanding of God’s love changes, but God’s love remains the same. The goal of God’s love is for us to live in such a way that “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.” (Psalm 85:10). The important thing is not to get caught up in fear, but instead to be consumed by the hope of a new state of being where righteousness will be at home.

And so we wait...

While we wait we wage peace, and we start with ourselves. We turn from selfishness toward the priorities of God. These priorities include us, so we start with the knowledge that we are beloved and forgiven and cherished – which means they are too, whoever they are.

While I think we do a pretty good job of this together, I want to tell you about a 12-year-old boy named Preston Wells. You might have heard about him on social media from the WIVK radio station. Preston responded to a call for Christmas cards for military personnel who are away from family by writing 136 cards. Before that, though, he wrote over 200 cards to inmates who didn’t have families supporting them. His message was “Keep your head up, and Merry Christmas.” Preston is fighting a potentially terminal cancer, but his faith is holding him and motivating him. His message is that “when you have pain inside, try to help someone else and you’ll feel better.”

This is how we wage peace, my friends: we hold fast to the love that was already holding us, and we look for opportunities to be kind to ourselves and to others because we know that "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well..."

May it be so with you. May it be so with me. And to God be the glory, now and forever. Amen.

The End?

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 03 Dec 2023 06:04:00 +0000

Isaiah 64:1-9; Mark 13:24-37

As we begin to reflect on God’s word, as we have received it from the prophet Isaiah and the Gospel of Mark, I am reminded of the old adage of beginning with the end in mind. At the same time, I want to challenge the notion that Jesus is exclusively – or even explicitly – talking about what many call the eschaton: the end of days.

For starters, we should talk about the context of these passages that the Revised Common Lectionary has given us today. Isaiah 64 is part of a block of chapters that most scholars believe were written around the time that Jewish people, who were scattered through Mesopotamian conquests, were returning to Jerusalem and the surrounding area. It’s important to note that this was very different than the modern state of Israel, which really did not exist before 1947.

The biggest difference is that our reading from Isaiah was not intended to be about ancestral lands or nation-states. It was a celebration their of identity as God’s people. It was an expression of the expectation that God would be faithful even if they had not been. It was an expression of something that I’m sure we’ve all felt or thought before, “God, if you wouldn’t mind, there are some things that have gotten a little out of hand down here and we’d love it if you could just come on down and fix it!”

I’m sure I don’t need to list the problems of the day to say how that relates to our lives. We’ve got several 24-hour news cycles if we want to find things to be afraid of or frustrated about; which makes me wonder why we need to hear so much drama from Jesus. What happened to our “Buddy Jesus” that we know and love.

Where is the guy who welcomed children and praised the widow for her offering? Same guy. Where’s the guy who challenged the Pharisees and the Sadducees for devotion devoid of compassion? Same guy. Why, then, is he proclaiming destruction? I did not think that Jesus was in the business of fear-mongering.

These are all good questions, but they are all based on the assumption that these passages exist by themselves to prove something that is quite the opposite of their intent. The intent of these passages, in their original context and in our seasonal celebration, is to inspire hope.

Admittedly there is much in Jesus’s proclamation that scholars have never agreed on, but one thing that we see from reading chapters 12 and 13 together is that Jesus is specifically talking about the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem and all that comes next. We don’t know how much of this is metaphorical and how much is historical and how much is literal.

We are simply told that Jesus will return. We won’t know when – but the signs will be obvious – and we need to be on the lookout! Now. Where do we look?

A friend of mine once asked me about this, because these passages were written from a worldview that had an entirely different understanding of geography and cosmology than you or I. Not only that, but she wanted to know if maybe – just maybe – the return of Christ had already happened, or could happen, in my heart and in yours.

I have to say that I think she was onto something. In fact, I might even say that her interpretation changes the idea of eschatology altogether. I’m not saying that God can’t do things one way or another, or that Jesus misspoke. I’m saying that placing our hope in a God who has come down to dwell with us changes the way we view the world.

It means that we look to the other, the one we would rather alienate, and we see the presence of God. I have to say that I believe that this congregation gets the idea that each person is beloved in the eyes of God, and Christ is present in our care for one another.

It has already been a great joy to experience the Loaves and Fish meal and your celebration of creativity through the arts in this historic space. Your hospitality for me has truly been overwhelming, and I can’t wait to see the ways that we live into the God-sized dream that this congregation was given through Project Thrive.

I know that you guys have probably heard and said these words more than you care to, given how long you have worked on them, but I want to share them again as a reminder of where we are and what we are pushing toward.

“DPC delights in the inherent dignity of all beings! We see the needs of our neighbors, the wider world, and the church as bound up together. In the heart of Downtown Nashville, we provide a safe harbor through our strategic location and cooperative community partnerships toward the common good. We rise to the call for the deep solidarity and social justice that permeates our faith and builds God’s kin-dom with extravagant welcome.”

Here’s the good news in all of that in light of our scripture today. God is faithful and active and present in all things, and this dream – just like the kin-dom of God – is both real and yet to be. We just have to look for it. We have to do the work of preparing our hearts and remaining open to God’s presence in unexpected people and places, but we aren’t concerned about a destructive calamity.

We are concerned about our end, but not about our destruction. We are concerned about our purpose; our reason for being. Our confessions tell us that our “chief end” is to glorify God and enjoy God’s presence.

Here in this place, I find God’s presence undeniable. Here at this table, we will celebrate all that God has done and will do.

The thing is, there are little apocalypses – small revelations of truth – that happen all around us, or at least could if we stay awake. Things are happening right now that our forbearers would think of as entirely dystopian – things like racial equality, women’s rights, and the acceptance of the LGBTQ community – that are proving to be ways to experience God’s presence here and now.

That is why these passages confront us. They are here to ask us what kind of revelation we are hoping for. And they are here to remind us that we are to expect God to show up this Christmas, even here and even now.

So, our waiting is not a passive thing. It should gather momentum and force like the kettle described by Isaiah. In our waiting, we should know that the heavens were torn for God’s spirit to descend on Jesus, and so that same Spirit is loose in the world in wheelchairs and coffee shops, in kindness to strangers and forgiveness of even our own shortcomings. Yes, let’s get ready, but not just for Christmas. Let’s get ready for the end.

For if we begin with the end in mind, we can’t help but give glory to God here and now in every chance encounter and every beloved soul that reflects God’s face to us. At least I pray it may be so with me and that it may be so with you, and to God be the glory, now and always. Amen!

Co-mission-ing

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Tue, 14 Nov 2023 05:15:00 +0000

"When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep." – John 21:15-17

[Sermon preached at FPC in Abbeville, Louisiana

on the occasion of the commissioning of Leigh Petersen–Rachal as their Pastor.]

In preparing for this sermon I did what I have done in other times of need. I called Leigh. Truth be told, I was calling in response to her expression of care for my needs with my upcoming move, and it dawned on me that I was at a loss for something to say that might be worthy of this occasion.

In her kind and gentle way, Leigh reminded me of a conversation we had before she moved to Abbeville. Apparently, she had been asked to preach on this very text and was confronted by the expectations that it placed upon her. Who was she to feed these sheep? What do they even eat? She was no shepherd. She was an advocate for the poor and the disenfranchised!

She said something like, “God really must have made a mistake. This gospel message can’t be for me.” I wish I could tell you that I gave her some wise counsel, but I just remember listening. They tell you in seminary that sometimes the best thing you can do is to listen and make sure the person knows you heard them. I can’t say that being quiet is a particular skill set of mine, but God finds a way in spite of us sometimes. Amen?

In reflection, Leigh told me about two other points of discernment along the way. One was a flier her daughter found in a parking lot for a Bible study with that same passage. The illustration may not have been a particularly Reformed portrayal of Jesus, but there he was – with bread and cup – as if to say, “Come on, Leigh. Feed my sheep.”

While I’m sure there have been many other nudges like these, particularly while worshiping with the congregation in Abbeville, another divine directive came from the reverence of her co-workers at ARCH in those times when she led worship on Zoom during the pandemic. I should say that my opinion is that those who work for ARCH – regardless of their beliefs – are doing the Lord’s work on the regular, so it was no small thing for them to allow a space of reverence while dealing with the constant crisis of the lack of housing in Acadiana (particularly during the pandemic).

All of this is to say that Leigh certainly feels called to this work, and that she is probably the last one to admit what we all know – that she is really good at feeding sheep. I say this as someone whom she has called her Pastor, and as someone whom she called to be a Pastor (she was on the search committee that brought me to Lafayette), and as someone who has relied on her energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.

Those words are all part of our ordination vows, and Leigh has never failed to fulfill them, but let’s give Leigh a break and look at what this text has to say to all of us about God’s hope for the church. “The church?” you say. “Isn’t this about Peter, the one on whom Jesus will build the church? Isn’t this about the shepherds? I-I-I-i just want to be a sheep!”

Ok, sure, but let’s see what we can learn from Peter’s faith. Traditionally you may have been told that this is Peter’s chance for redemption. He denied Jesus three times. Jesus asks him three times, “Peter, do you love me?” An exasperated Peter says, “Yes, Lord. You know I do!” three times.

Do you know what Jesus didn’t say? First, he never accused Peter of anything or even implied there was any brokenness between them, and second, he never said, “I forgive you.” Karoline Lewis of Luther Seminary interprets this to mean that the problem Jesus is illustrating is not Peter’s denial of Jesus, but his denial of himself.

In John’s gospel, Peter is asked if he is a disciple of Jesus, whereas in the other three, he is asked if he knows Jesus. In those cases, he denies knowing Jesus. In John’s gospel, he denies his own identity as a disciple and says, “I am not.” Here, Lewis suggests that Jesus is not trapping Peter or goading him into a response so much as confirming Peter’s identity as a disciple and as a shepherd.

Touching back on that idea of Peter as the “chosen one,” I find it interesting how easy it is to identify with Peter’s impetuousness everywhere else in the gospel. He was the first to claim Jesus as Messiah. He was the one to call for building booths on the mountaintop when Jesus was transfigured. He was the one who stepped out of the boat in faith and nearly drowned, and he was the one to cut off the ear of Malchus.

It is pretty easy to identify with that guy, but this guy – the one Jesus tells to feed his sheep – is the same guy. This question, “Do you love me?” is not a test of affirmation for Jesus. It is a question of identity for Peter. Does his love for Jesus as the self-revelation of God; as the risen Christ; as the embodiment of compassion… does Peter's love for the work of God which was begun in Jesus give value and meaning to his life? If it does, then Peter will feed the sheep of Jesus.

From that point of view, Jesus is not worried about Peter denying who he is. Jesus is concerned with Peter’s denial of self. At this point in the story, Jesus had already appeared to the disciples. Then a few days later Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” Which essentially meant, “Wow. That was a pretty wild ride, but I’m going back to my old way of living.”

Jesus confronts Peter as a leader amongst the disciples, but this story reminds all who follow in the way of Jesus that love is a transformative thing. At the center of this teaching is not the affirmation of Jesus so much as it is the affirmation of Peter and the work that God is going to do through him, and perhaps even through you, and maybe even me.

See, we can paint Peter as the hero, but that’s not what our Reformed heritage teaches us. We affirm that we are a priesthood of believers. We are all sheep and shepherds seeking the transformative love of God that gives our vision voice and inspires courageous faith that stands firm in the face of hunger – whether it is spiritual or physical.

Even this service is a co-mission-ing, a word that literally means that we are in service together! The beautiful thing is that God has called Leigh and endowed her with certain gifts, just as God has called and gifted each of us to meet each other's needs and care for the world around us.

While I imagine there are those here, just as on any given Sunday, with varying levels of faith or comfort around the language of faith, I hope you will take heart in the greater hope that moves us all toward the good.

What I am saying is that, if you truly believe that “life exists and identity; that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse,” then who are you to doubt your voice? Confronted with this truth, how can we say anything but, “Yes, Lord. You know I love you!” and what else may we expect but the invitation to care for those in need?

So it is with each of us as we approach the table of grace and mercy; as we consider what it means to be in mission together; and as we remember that we are both sheep and shepherd – each endowed with certain gifts, each fed by the opportunity of loving as we have been loved.

At least I pray it may be so for me, and that it may be so for you, and all to the glory of God. Now and always. Amen.

For All the Saints

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 05 Nov 2023 06:59:00 +0000

Revelation 7:9-17, 1 John 3:1-3, Matthew 5:1-12

I bring you greetings from the 155th meeting of the Presbytery of South Louisiana, and I want to remind you that we are a part of the Presbytery. There is no us and them. There is just us, and we meet three times a year with commissioned Elders – not representatives but Elders who are in mission together – to discern the will of God for the church.

The meeting of commissioners of the Presbytery of South Louisiana (PSL) is February 6 at University Presbyterian Church in Baton Rouge, and our governing council, the Session, will need to commission two Ruling Elders – which means two people who have served (or are serving) on our Session – to attend that meeting.

I also mentioned the Rev. Lemuel García-Arroyo in the announcements. Rev. Lemuel serves as a ministry engagement advisor for the South region of the PC(USA) Office of Ministry Engagement and Support. In that role, he assists congregations and mid-councils (like the Presbytery) to deepen their engagement in mission and ministry and to respond to the Matthew 25 initiative. This initiative is something we have not talked much about, but it is something that we are engaged in as a Presbytery. The Matthew 25 initiative is certainly worth looking into as you continue in ministry together, and it may help you further define the mission of witness and service that we have been working on this past year.

The point in sharing all of this is that there is a great cloud of witnesses surrounding you – even here, even now. As First Presbyterian begins a transition in ministry, there will be work to do that none of you want to do, but there is support for you in the PSL and in the PC(USA).

I find God’s timing in all of this amazing, given that today is All Saints Day! Believe me when I say that, although I have made some decisions in this transition, the timing is not one of those choices. Even so, it is fitting that our relationship should change on this day.

Traditionally, it is a day that we reconcile ourselves with the reality of loss and the expectation of God’s providence. At the same time, it is also a day when we recognize those living saints in our midst, and again, believe me when I say that I am not talking about me.

Our Reformed tradition looks to scripture for an understanding of the concept of saints, and throughout the letters of Paul, we find the word “saints” being used to describe members of faith communities who are actively engaged in ministry together – so that would be you.

In our reading from the Revelation of John, we find an ecstatic vision of martyrs standing before the lamb of God offering praise and glory! It’s important to know that this was written in a time of suffering for the church, and they needed to know that their suffering was not in vain.

The same is true for the church today, and perhaps especially so for our siblings in Cuba. Many of you will recall stories of Mercedis Cardenas, the woman who started or sibling church in Sabanilla with a Bible study in her house during Castro’s revolution. She came here in 2000 to establish our partnership, and when she did she received a church newsletter that had a clip art image of a lamb with a cross and it inspired her to make this banner. [Draped over the pulpit.]

Mercedis gave it to me on our last visit and told me passionately that she wanted you to have it as a symbol of our union in Christ. The Latin Phrase on it translates to “No Other Lamb,” and she has held this symbol of union and prayed over it – and for you – for years!

To her, this gift is every bit as important as the Living Waters system that we partner with her congregation to maintain – even though that system gave her the first taste of water that she has ever consumed without having to boil it.

This is what it means to be a Saint of the Church, to love and seek the salvation of others; to pour oneself out in the hope of restoration; to love as you have been loved; and to come to know yourself as a child of God – for that is what you are (1 John 3:1).

What’s next? 1 John 3 goes on to say that we aren’t sure, but we have this hope in Christ Jesus that we might become something more, something pure, something more like the embodiment of love through whom we have come to know how to love.

As good as that sounds, it’s a little hard for me to visualize what that might be like. I like to imagine how things might look and feel for them to become real. Most of you probably know that this is one of the reasons I love to make art.

I don’t usually call myself an artist because I feel like that title has some cultural baggage that I don’t want, but I will say that I am creative – and so are you. You are created in the image of The Creator so you really can’t help but create in some way or another. Maybe not in the ways of fine art, but maybe in the art of conversation; or auto mechanics; or teaching; or problem solving.

You are a creature who creates. Even if you just make a mess, you have made something! In fact, I would suggest that we are not only creators, but we are – in our common union as the church – a work of art from the hands of the Great Master!

We are a unique work of art in that we play a part in our own expression. We are like a painting that paints itself, every day. Even on Sundays the people that fill these pews, and worship with us online, shift and change from week to week. The congregation is not just a group of members but members in community – in common unity – with others, and while that starts here it doesn’t end here. The faith we share finds its fullest expression outside of these walls in our families and friendships and even the most random of encounters.

How do we do it? How do we create and re-create such works of art in the gallery of the world outside? We do it by looking to our faith as though it were an easel. We look to our tradition as though it were a canvas. We look to God’s word as though it were our paint, and we look to our hearts as though they were our brushes.

Today we have received – in our painter’s pallet – hope amidst our trials from the Revelation of John and the assurance of our kinship in God’s love from 1 John. In Matthew’s Gospel, we received what we really need to hear. “Blessed are you. Blessed are you. Blessed are you.” Nine times we are told how blessed we are, and there are two truths revealed in this passage that I have learned from the Saints of First Presbyterian Church in Lafayette that I’ll share with you now.

First is the abundance of God’s grace in the midst of what the world calls scarcity. You have a history of demonstrating the idea of “creation out of nothing,” but that’s because it isn’t out of nothing. It is out of the hospitality of God reflected through the Saints of the church. Back in the day, you produced over 1,000 gift baskets one year for needy children. After that ministry ran its course you opened your doors for disaster recovery, and you still stand ready from the lessons learned to do it again when the next one comes.

After that, you provided the start-up funds for Living Waters in Cuba and found others to match it. All the while you’ve maintained partnerships in the community to extend the reach of the church far beyond your capacities, and you do it all the time through the grace and mercy of God.

It’s also no small thing that you have become known as a safe space in a spiritual landscape that has historically and presently proffered violence and harm to the LGBTQ+ community. I guarantee you that, while some members of that community may never darken your door, some are yet encouraged by this public witness. I also guarantee that after I am gone there will be those who wonder if you really mean it or if it was just Pastor Zach’s agenda, and you’ll need to find a way to assure them if this safe space is to be maintained.

All of this speaks to your character of hospitality that has created an ethos of abundance in the midst of scarcity, which is what Jesus described when he called you blessed.

The second truth from this passage that you’ve taught me is that it’s okay to name and claim whatever state of sorriness you find yourself in. What’s not okay is to let it define who you are. You are a beloved child of God. Those who mourn will be comforted. Those who are beaten down in every way will be lifted up! Even if people treat you horribly on account of your witness of love and acceptance and radical welcome, you are blessed and you will see and experience the active presence of God!

I know this because I have seen God’s activity here in your midst, and I have seen the masterpieces that you have painted in the past. Last Spring, during Lent, you literally created works of art reflecting on what it means to you to be the church, and you created a gallery in the Narthex. That same gallery also displays pictures from time to time of other events and activities of the church, and I hope you will continue to display expressions of creative ministry in that space and every place.

It makes me wonder what you will paint next with the easel of faith, the canvas of tradition, the pallet of paint that is the Word of God, and the brushes of your hearts. I have no idea what it will be, but I expect it to be amazing!

The beautiful thing is that – even though you will go out into the gallery of the world and be on display for all to see – you have one another to paint it with. Even more beautiful is the knowledge that we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses that includes those in the Presbytery South Louisiana and the PC(USA), our siblings in Cuba, and all who follow the way of Jesus! Even more beautiful is the vision of the kingdom of heaven that we find here, around this table where we celebrate the forgiveness we have received.

Here we remember those who have gone before us. Here we not only imagine but we taste and see the goodness of God. Here we are united with all the saints, on whose shoulders we stand, beside whom we sit, and even those who wait in the shadows for the light you may bear.

At least I expect it to be as such for me; and I expect it to be as such for you; and to God be the glory – now and always. Amen!

Love For The Sake Of Loving

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 05 Nov 2023 02:32:00 +0000

Deuteronomy 34:1-12; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46

I don’t know about you, but I feel like there are times when the lectionary readings are a little too “on the nose” for what’s going on in our lives and in the world. In the Reformed tradition, we might attribute that to the providence of God. Others might just call it the work of the Spirit, and last Sunday we talked about it as the active presence of God.

You may recall that Moses asked God, “How are they – or anyone else – to know that we are your people if you do not go with us?” The same is true of us today, whether there is a pillar of fire or a cloud or a rainbow or just your neighbor in the pew to remind you that God is active and present and in our midst.

A word of caution, though, I think we can get a little carried away if we try to infer God’s motivations apart from what we find in scripture – and even then we can go too far. That same caution is what moved the early Protestant Reformers to criticize the church of their day.

To be clear, the early reformers were not trying to form a new church. Sometimes we talk about them breaking away from the Roman Catholic Church, but that is not so. At that time there was one primary church – apart from the Eastern Orthodox Church and some smaller communities that existed from the time of the apostles – and the Protestant Reformation began as a desire to re-form the church. They wanted to get back to the basics. They wanted to follow the teachings of Jesus and the witness of the early church from Acts and the letters of Paul.

Of course, we know that this led to their expulsion, and their persistence led to the formation of new expressions of faith in Christ. I bring this up because today is Reformation Sunday, a day that we remember our calling to be “Reformed and always Reforming” around the word of God.

Some of my congregationalist colleagues whose traditions require a more literal understanding of scripture have found it odd for me to say that we believe that we are “reformed around God’s word,” but that is precisely who we are and what we do.

Doing so requires reading God’s word, and I hope that you are taking some time to do so regularly. If not, you might want to grab some friends and form a little book club for Jesus (also known as a Bible study). Given our belief in the active presence of God, we do expect that reading scripture will offer its own insight, but it should be said that we can’t read it without our own interpretive lenses and biases.

Anyone who tells you that they do not bring an interpretive bias to scripture is either not aware of their lens or not speaking the truth. I think the important thing is to be honest with ourselves and with God about the expectations we bring to the text.

Today we come to the texts in a time of leadership transition, global conflict, and personal experiences ranging from hopefulness to despair to wonder and joy. I cannot help but think of all of these when I read about Moses, who led the people through the wilderness, not being allowed to enter the promised land. I cannot help but think about all of that when I hear that Moses’s burial site was hidden – so that it would not become the focus of devotion for these people whom God has chosen to go with.

Likewise, as I read Paul’s letter to the church in Thessalonica, whom he loves, I cannot help but think of my love for you! When he said, “Our coming to you was not in vain.” I think of those times when members have wondered if their contributions have mattered or not – whether it is selling parking for Mardi Gras or Festival or scrubbing pews on a church work day or just the acts of kindness in their lives that seem to be repaid with punishment – and I say, “No! Love is never given in vain. Love is love’s own reward.”

You might even say that loving for the sake of loving is what Jesus had in mind when he silenced the religious authorities in the Temple. That’s probably a little broad of a brushstroke, so maybe it’s better to say “Loving as an act of devotion.”

The thing is, he did not actually say anything that was all that revolutionary. He simply quoted Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and added Leviticus 19:18, which was a pretty common move during his day. It would be kind of like telling someone to live by the “Golden Rule” of Matthew 7:12 “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

There’s nothing wrong with any of that, but there is a difference between saying and doing. There is a difference in the expectation of devotion and the act of devotion. From the moment that he threw the money changers out of the Temple all the way through his epic parable teaching, Torah quoting, rap battle with the scholars of his day, Jesus was focused on the act of devotion, and the fruit of it is found in the way we treat one another.

The source of our faith is found in our expectations about God’s active presence, but the fruit of our faith is expressed between us. Hold that thought, and go back to 2011 with me.

There was a bombing in Cairo, Egypt that killed 23 Coptic Christians and wounded several others. Coptics are one of those groups that I mentioned that have literal lineage to the first-century church. They speak Arabic, so when they pray to God they say “Allah,” because that’s the Arabic word for “God.”

What you may or may not remember about this event is that the Arab community spoke out against the extremists and condemned the attack. They marched in the streets to prevent further violence. At one point they stopped to pray, as is their custom, and the Christians who were with them, mostly Coptics, formed a wall around them to keep them safe while they prayed.

I wish I could tell you that fixed things, but you know it did not. I can tell you that is not the only time that Christians have held sacred space for Muslims, and that there have been other incidents where Muslims have safeguarded Christians from extremists. I realize that is all good and well for the headlines, but it’s a little abstract when it comes to you and me. I share it because I believe it comes back to the idea of loving our neighbors as ourselves. If it can be done in the most extreme, it can be done in the most simple ways as well.

I don’t say that to beat you up. I say it to pat you on the back. None of us follow the way of Jesus perfectly, but together we can get a little closer to it than we can by ourselves. This passage, this summary of the law, is what we’ve chosen as the basis for our congregation’s vision and mission and core values (which you can find on the “About” tab of fpclafayette.org).

The vision and mission are ever before you on the front of your bulletin, and I hope you’ll read it from time to time and let it guide you. In fact, I’d like us to read them together. Let’s start with the Vision: We are a community of believers grounded in the Reformed Tradition of Christian faith and growing through the experience of God’s love.

I’ve already mentioned a little about the “Reformed Tradition” and while I hope you’ll take time to look more deeply into that, it’s important to remember that our tradition is not the only one – it’s just the one that we feel gives us the space in which to grow. What matters is that we see ourselves as both deeply rooted in faith and growing in our ability to experience the love of God.

That leads us to our Mission. Let’s say that one too:

We are grounded in the practice of loving God…with all of our hearts as we build and maintain relationships as a public witness of welcome and concern…with all our souls as we express gratitude through our generosity of spirit… with all of our minds as we experience God’s activity in the world. As we grow, we seek to love God and neighbor and self equally with all that we have and all that we are. (Matthew 22:37-39)

I gotta say, those are some beautiful words. I believe they describe First Presbyterian Church as a congregation, and I hope you feel good about that. There is one little thing that I worry about, though. I worry about how much you love yourself. Presbyterians are pretty good at confessing their sin, but we aren’t always that great about recognizing our blessedness as God’s beloved children.

Something I’ve learned about in my time here is that when I doubt myself I am forgetting whose image I’m made in. When I neglect my identity as a child of God, I am not doubting my value in the eyes of God. I am doubting God’s value in mine. I’ve replaced my devotion for God with a devotion of self-pity, and that is a trap I hope none of you will fall into.

In those times that I doubted God’s activity and my value, doubt became the lens that I looked through for everything else. I want you to know that you have taught me that there is a community of believers that will stand with you and around you no matter what. I want you to know that you are valuable in the eyes of God, and the expectation of Jesus is not that you will earn God’s love by following a set of rules. His expectation is that the love of God will set you free so that you may love for the sake of loving.

At least I pray that it may be so for me, and for you, and to God be the glory – now and always. Amen!

God's Active Presence

noreply@blogger.com (Rev Zach Sasser) — Sun, 22 Oct 2023 05:18:00 +0000

Exodus 33:12-23; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22

Let’s talk about the active presence of God. One of the recurring confessions that I have heard through the years from people of faith is the fact that many of us do not feel that we have experienced the active presence of God. The first time I received such a confession was in 1998. I led a spiritual retreat for some college students for my Presbytery of origin in Georgia. I was still in seminary and kind of new at the game, but it seemed to go pretty well.

We were cleaning up after ourselves at the retreat center and one of the students pulled me aside. He said, “I really enjoyed the retreat, but you talked a lot about experiencing God’s presence and I don’t think I have. I want to, but I’m not sure I can. I believe in God, but I just feel like a hypocrite or like something’s wrong with me.”

We talked a little about what some may call “Imposter’s Syndrome” – that feeling like you are just pretending because you don’t understand. We talked about the importance of ritual and community. We talked about prayer as a conversation and God as an “active listener” as we work out our concerns. I’m not sure how much it helped, but I encouraged him to keep seeking and assured him that God was active and present. We ended our conversation with a conversation with God.

He was certainly not the last person to boldly confess an active practice of doubt when it comes to the activity of God, and I want you to know that if you are in that place today it’s okay. I was once bold enough to say to someone who did not believe in God that it was okay because God still believed in them. I want you to know that. God believes in you. God suffers with you, celebrates because of you, and hopes in you. I believe that.

Whether you believe that or not, I think the question of God’s active presence is a good place to start with our reflection on the text, since it was the question the Israelites were struggling with. Our reading from Exodus 33 follows the gift of the law at Mount Horeb, and the unfortunate incident of the Golden Calf (look it up in ch 32, you will be shocked).

The scene of our text is God speaking to Moses, as one might to a friend, in the tent of meeting while the Israelites await their fate outside. Moses argues that the only way for them to know that God is with them, and for others to know that they are God’s people, is for God to go with them. God agrees. Then Moses gets pushy. “Show me,” he says.

God agrees but says, “You can’t see my face and live, but I’ll cover you when I walk by and you can see my back.”

There’s not much we can do with a story like this except to say that the fullness of God is just too much for a person to see and survive. Admittedly, that is a bit of a nonsequitur, but I think it has more to do with the idea that the reality of God is beyond our ability to conceive. Rather, once conceived we no longer need to believe in something beyond our own imagination.

This is why the name of God is not just “I am,” it is, “I shall be as I shall be.” In fact, Jewish tradition holds that the name of God is written in an unpronounceable form, and when the Torah is read, they instead say “Adoni” which is the word we translate as “Lord.”

This unknowable one is yet talking with Moses as a friend over tea – but clearly is not physically present – and then says, “I’ll show you what you can see without doing you harm or harming those you love.” Moses agrees, and the people move forward with the active presence of God.

The signs and wonders that indicate that God is active and present only hold out for their time in the wilderness, and from then on it is arguably a little murky. Of course, we believe that Jesus was God’s self-revelation in the most complete way possible, and our hope rests on the expectation that God is with us – that God is completely accessible – through our faith in Jesus.

It is this Jesus, whom we read about today, that not only upholds us in our times of trial but challenges us in our expectations of what it means for God to be active and present in our lives and in the world!

Here in Matthew 22, we find Jesus in the temple. It’s the week of the Passover. He rode into town on a Donkey. Pilgrims from across the region saw the spectacle and shouted, “Hosanna!” Jesus purified the temple of the money changers – the ones who have made a business out of exchanging Roman money for Temple tokens and selling animals for sacrifices, all for a profit that takes advantage of the poor.

Now the Pharisees, the keepers of the law and tradition, are busting his chops with a question about paying taxes to Rome. These taxes, by the way, pay for the occupation of Rome – a foreign power. This tax is a terrible injustice, but some profit from it. That means that this question is intended to polarize. They might as well have said, “Are you an enemy of the state, or are you a puppet of the empire?”

Jesus calls them out as hypocrites, then he makes them produce a coin. He wants them to know that he knows they are demonstrating something different than they profess to believe. Then he asks about the graven image of Caesar and the inscription, which denotes the divinity of Caesar.

In saying, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s,” Jesus is not endorsing the tax. He is reminding them of Psalm 24:1-2, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.” For the readers of Matthew’s Gospel, he is reinforcing what he has said before about serving two masters and giving all to the poor and everything else he has said about the Kingdom of Heaven that is in our midst, even as close as our breath and within us.

Early Christians, perhaps even Matthew’s community took these words to heart. I don’t mean to say that they gave all that they had and lived as one because we really don’t see that anywhere but the very early church in Acts. The thing that lasted longer was their compassion, and it was grounded in the expectation of God’s active presence and the hope of the resurrection. It was grounded in the idea that, in the words of Douglas King, Jesus looked upon their faces and “the imprint of Caesar’s face on that coin, and in both of them he sees the image of God reflected in creation. What he does not see is anyone or anything worthy of our ultimate allegiance.”

God is, of course, worthy of our ultimate allegiance, and Paul gives thanks to God for the way the church in Thessalonica is expressing their allegiance to God. They express it in word and deed, and their actions demonstrate what they believe.

There is another church that is like that you know, and it’s you. I’m not saying that there is no hypocrisy among us that every one of you is perfect or that none of you question what I mean when I say that God is active and present. In fact, I am quite aware that some of you have a list of questions waiting for the day they meet up with God face to face.

I will say that I have 13 years of memories, and some of you have more than me, of the faithfulness of this congregation as demonstrated by your actions – your offerings of time, talent, and treasure – that express your allegiance to God. Every one of those memories is precious to me because they remind me what it means to exhibit the Kingdom of God to the world.

Many of you don’t know this, but when I first got here I asked Tom Foard how long we had until we would be out of our cash reserves. He said, “Five years.” Tom Foard was rarely wrong when it came to money, and he followed that with, “Let’s not worry about that.” Turns out he wasn’t wrong to trust in the Lord.

His loss still saddens me, but his faith still affirms mine. Likewise, during the pandemic, I asked Chuck how we were doing. He told me that while we were struggling, people were still giving. Given the quality of recordings that I was putting out, I was shocked, but it turns out you value something more than quality entertainment from the pulpit. You value being the church. The fact that we made it through the pandemic and have even improved since then blows me away, and our Lenten giving challenge was the icing on the cake!

I tell you these things to say that I see the active presence of God in and through you. People tell me that all the time, but don’t you think that’s a pretty low bar for me as a pastor? I just show up wearing the costume and people are triggered, for better or for worse, but you, you guys are the ones our friends in Cuba will talk about.

You guys are the ones that people in this community will talk about when they get a meal and conversation whether it is through Meals on Wheels or a free lunch at the Wesley. I hate to tell you, but – while they are glad for the food – homebound elderly folks are hungry for interaction. Likewise, UL students are hungry for someone who looks like their mom or dad or grandparents who wants to hear about their day.

That may not be your thing, or you might not be able to break free in the morning or on Mondays at noon, and that’s okay. What matters is that we find ways to give our ultimate allegiance to God and to recognize that God is active and present in all things.

The beautiful thing is that you have each other for that. You have church officers to guide you and task forces seeking creative solutions to problems before you as a church. More than that, God is with you and will support you and guide you as God has, as God does, as God will, and to God be the glory for that – now and always. Amen!

Fear or Reverence?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 09 Oct 2023 15:46:00 +0000

Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20; Philippians 3:4b-14; Matthew 21:33-46

Last week we talked about our partners in Cuba and the witness we share with them. We talked about Paul’s encouragement to have the same mind as Christ and to be willing to give ourselves over in sacrificial love for one another, and we talked about the way that Jesus called out – and calls out – religious leaders who do not practice what they preach.

I know I said it before, but I want to remind you once more that Jesus is saying all these things during what we think of as Holy Week. Just the day before, he entered Jerusalem with shouts of “Hosannah!” and cleared the money changers from the temple. He’s done some teaching and healing, and he came back the next day. He started his day by cursing a fig tree for denying him breakfast – which seemed weird – but that precedes two parables about bearing fruit and some say that Matthew was making a point beyond assessing the hangriness of Jesus.

We talked about the first parable last week, with the Temple Authorities questioning the authority of Jesus to do “all these things,” like cleansing the temple and letting people shout “Hosannah!” Jesus answered with the parable of the two sons – one who did his father’s will and the other who said he would and did not – as a jab at the Temple Authorities, and as a way to giving priority to the doing of God’s will over agreement with God’s will.

As if that were not enough – Jesus wants to be sure that they know that he is talking about them – he tells them another tale. This one is about some wicked tenants who attempt to take the field under their care by force, even killing the heir to the owner so that they might inherit it themselves.

Clearly, these tenants are in the wrong, and the Temple Authorities levy judgment. They say that the landowner should kill them, horribly, for the death of his son. Of course, we hear that and we can’t miss the parallel with Jesus. One might assume that the early church who heard or read this story already knew about Jesus from some other account, and they would have said the Greek equivalent of “I see what you did there.”

Likewise, the Temple Authorities figured out only a little too late that he was talking about them, and they wanted to arrest him, but they were afraid. They were not afraid of Jesus, or of God’s wrath, or of being wrong. They were afraid that he was right. In their own words, they were afraid that God would “lease the vineyard” to someone else, and they were afraid of losing the support of the people – who thought Jesus was a prophet (essentially the mouthpiece of God).

I want to pause the scene right there. We’ll come back to it later because we need to talk a little more about this “cornerstone” reference. Before we get into that I want to talk a little more about fear. This is a good time of year for that, right? It’s October - spooky season.

All three of our verses have a little bit of fear in them, and last week we talked about “working out our salvation in fear and trembling before the Lord.” If you recall, I said that my understanding of these words is to fear nothing but the loss of God’s presence and to tremble with the hope that we have responded to God’s love with love for our neighbors that is likened to the love we have for ourselves.

In our first reading, we have Moses telling the Israelites that God’s laser light show is not something to fear; God is just testing them and putting the fear of God upon them so that they do not sin. Don’t be afraid of God,; do be afraid, because that will keep you from sinning. Right? Ri-i-i-ight.

Admittedly, that’s a tough sell, although there are plenty of folks who will tell you that faith is all about avoiding God’s wrath. Still, I’m going to go with 1 John 4:18, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.”

That said, these 10 Commandments were more of a legal contract with serious consequences that were agreed upon as a covenant with this God that most of the Israelites barely knew, and then only from stories. I preached a series about this in June, so if you are curious you can go back and see it on our YouTube channel. One of the things that I worked on was finding grace and mercy in these unyielding words.

Generally, what we find here is a pattern that Jesus uses in the Lord’s Prayer and in his summary of the law – which also happens to be the bedrock of our mission and vision statements. As a reminder, vv 1-3 are about reverence for God; v 4 is about self-care; and vv 5-10 are about loving your neighbor. After all of that, we hear about fear and testing, and all I know to do is to ask, “Why?” Really. What is the reason behind this last word about fear?

Hold onto that thought for a minute – right along with Jesus and the Temple Authorities. Now we have two questions about fear. Why did Moses say “Don’t be afraid of God…on second thought, actually, yes, do be afraid of God,” and what were the Temple Authorities really afraid of – or maybe what should they have been afraid of, if anything?

In the middle of all of this is the little church in Philippi. Most of Paul’s letters address some kind of conflict, and Philippians has a bit. Mostly this letter is about Paul telling them how proud he is of them, encouraging their faith, and giving some pretty solid advice, but there is some controversy in our reading today. Jewish followers of the way of Jesus were telling the Gentile followers that their men had to be circumcised, so Paul encouraged them to understand the difference between the commitments of the flesh and the reality of God’s love. He lifted up his credentials as a Pharisee among Pharisees and called it trash, just like in 1 Corinthians 13, where he said, “If I have faith as to move mountains but do not love, I am a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal.”

Nothing but love really matters. Anyone can see. Nothing really matters but pressing on toward the goal of eternal life in God’s embrace - not only in the life to come but in this life, here and now! “Press on,” says Paul, “this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

Now, where’s the fear in Paul’s words? There is fear in the embrace of strangers. There is fear in the loss of the traditions that have formed people and identified them for generations. Yet, he says, “Fugittaboutit.”

Here’s where this all comes together for me. Jesus told the Temple Leaders stories about people who gave God lip service and acted as Landlords rather than stewards, yet those Priests and Scribes were afraid of the people’s reverence for God. They were afraid for their loss of power. The people are the ones who get it right. These are the ones who have passed down the stories of Moses and the expectation of reverence for the God of their ancestors.

These are the same people that include the sex workers and tax collectors (whom Jesus mentioned in Matthew 21:32) who Jesus said would enter the Kingdom of Heaven ahead of the Temple Authorities. I would call the part about the cornerstone that follows it the mike drop, but even that is a set up for a deeper cut. “How about another story? The Kingdom of Heaven to be like a Wedding Banquet where a dignitaries rejected the King’s invitation, so he invited those on the streets instead.”

As a set up, Jesus reminds these Authorities about the authority of God, and the way that the praises sung for God’s deliverance in Psalm 118 describe his entrance with festal palms and the expectation of a cornerstone for a new foundation. His words are threatening and confrontational, and they respond out of fear – not reverence, but fear. I think that’s what all this really comes around to – fear or reverence.

I have a symbol called “Gye Nyame” on my desk that comes from Ghana and it means, “Except for God, fear nothing,” and I keep it there to remind me of the importance of reverence. Treva and I went to Ghana for a travel seminar in seminary, and there were faith statements like this everywhere. We saw Emanuel Tire and Lube, and God Is Bigger Than Any Trouble Fashion Boutique, and even the Jesus Saves Saloon! I imagine (or at least I hope) it is much the same, as there was a sense that one should revere God with all aspects of life, which is what I think of with “Except for God, fear nothing.”

The Apostle Paul said (Romans 8:38) that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, so truly, we have nothing to fear. We have a goal to press toward. We have a vineyard to cultivate and fruit to harvest! Unlike the fig tree that started Jesus’s day with frustration and cursing, we are bearing fruit! I gotta say, from the first day I met the members of this congregation until now, I have seen harvest after harvest in times and dates I never thought possible. Right now, there is an orange tree on the grounds that is heavy-laden. Next to it is another that failed to thrive but is still sending shoots from its rootstock. Which describes us best? I say the orange tree.

The thing is, the harvest comes regardless of how wicked or righteous the tenants might be, so let us press on toward the goal of righteousness! Let’s celebrate the past, but let us be defined by where we are headed – and we are headed for the embrace of God! Here, in this place, we get a glimpse of it, but only through our reverence for God – and that is what helps us experience the embrace of God everywhere, all the time. Truly, that’s what it’s all about. At least I pray it may be so with you, and that it might be with me, and to God be the glory – now and always. Amen!

A Hug From Josué

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 02 Oct 2023 14:18:00 +0000

Exodus 17:1-7; Philippians 2:1-13; Matthew 21:23-32

Beloved, I have just spent the most amazing week with our mission partners from the Cuba Partner Network of the Presbytery of South Louisiana and the Iglesia Presbiteriana-Reformada en Cuba! I can’t thank you enough for allowing me the time and for the donations of OTC medicines, crafts for Sunday School, and supplies for jewelry making. A lot of these items also came from our neighbors in the Unitarian Universalist Congregation.

In case you did not see it in the email, I want to assure you that Pastor Josué inventoried and appreciated every item. He assured us of the care that would be taken in distributing these items and made sure to safeguard them.

I can also tell you that even though each item was received with joy, the things that will help them care for their children had a special weight. Feathers, foamboard, and glue are hard to come by. Stickers and ribbons are rare.

Before we left New Orleans, Pastor Josué messaged us through WhatsApp with a picture of the women of the church making jewelry to sell to support a women’s ministry meeting on November 4.

Along with these stories I want to have a moment of recognition for the work that we have been doing in partnership with the church in Sabanilla. In most countries, Living Waters for the World partnerships last about three years and then become self-sustaining. Cuba is a different story because they can’t sell the water. Even so, I think we need to recognize that our partners in Cuba from Living Waters and the Iglesia Presbiteriana-Reformada en Cuba have developed a warehouse for supplies and are capable of supporting one another to a certain extent.

We will still want to support them as we are able – and we may need to help replenish items they receive from the warehouse – but our focus is probably going to shift to focus on our relationship as siblings in Christ rather than developers of a project.

We’ll still need to raise funds from time to time, and it would be great to get someone else trained on the technical aspects of the water system, but the center of this is our relationship. The center of this is learning from one another and encouraging one another in faith.

Let me tell you, there is great faith in Cuba! There is also great despair, and Pastor Josué noted in his sermon that people can live in poverty as long as they have a sense of care for one another. When that breaks down, they descend into despair. The work of the church in Sabanilla is bringing hope to people who despair, and I want you to know that it matters to them that we come. They don’t need our approval. They don’t need our gifts. They can use them, and they are thankful for them, but what they need is to be loved and to have the chance to express their love for us.

Love and grace are the waters that flow from the rock like in the story of the Israelites. Moses and his people were undeniably held by God’s grace, and the same is true of the church in Sabanilla and the church in Lafayette. In Cuba, we experienced it firsthand as Pastor Josué led an Agapé Feast. Cubans and US Citizens dipped bread in honey and fed one another as siblings in Christ, and it was amazing and holy and wonderful.

Yet, I wonder how many of you stood before rocks with elders this week. I wonder how often God calls us, and who we call (and how often we call on them) to discern God’s presence together. Thankfully, we get a shot at it every week – right here.

As we gather, not unlike the church in Philippi, we ask ourselves if anything remains sacred in the world. Paul answers that question with, “If there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”

If following the way of Jesus does anything for you, let it be this: be unified in agapé (selfless love). Paul follows all of this by unpacking what it means to “have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” by quoting a hymn. Some scholars say this might have been their Amazing Grace or Lord of the Dance. It doesn’t really matter what the tune was, but it was a song that resonated deeply. It was a song that sang about sacrificial love. It was a song that encouraged communal living but acknowledged the responsibility of the individual to “work out” their life of faith before God with “fear and trembling.”

That line always gets me. Does God want me to fear and tremble? Does God want my choices to be made out of fear of punishment? I don’t think so. Do I fear anything but the loss of God’s presence? I hope not. Do I, because of the example of Christ, tremble at the idea that I might not have shown the gratitude that others deserve from me? I hope so.

I must say that Pastor Josué humbled me in this regard. He serves three congregations and two mission sites (what we would call new church developments). I don’t wish that on anyone, and his hope is to empower other leaders to take on these other congregations. The good news is that, amid these strained resources, new fruit is being raised in a very literal sense.

I’ll come back to that after we talk a little more about the gospel, but bearing fruit is a common thread in both. The story we have in Mathew’s gospel is set just after he enters into Jerusalem. He came in like a literal messiah, cleared the money changers out of the temple, did some teaching and healing, and called it a day.

The next day he cursed a fig tree for not bearing fruit and it withered, then he went back into the temple to teach. The Temple Authorities then ask him by whose authority he has done these things. I imagine them saying, “I don’t recall giving you permission. Levi, did you? No? Mordecai? No? Yeah, none of us are ok with this. Just who do you think you are?”

Jesus answered with a question, as he often does, about the authority of John, and they were stumped – because they really didn’t know. They were also scared of the repercussions of their answer, so they played it safe, “We don’t know.”

Then Jesus told them the story of two brothers who are asked to labor. One says “no” and does it. The other says “yes” and does not. Clearly, the first son is the one who did his father’s will, and Jesus tells the temple authorities that sex workers and tax collectors understand this better because they are the ones who repented when John called them to repent.

Jesus goes on to talk about producing fruit, and we’ll talk about that next week. For now, I want to circle back to the potential of fruit in Cuba, and in Lafayette, but first I need to tell you about Carl and Mila, two “laborers” who came with us from the LSU Ag Center. They specialize in small farm cultivation, and they have activated community gardens all around the world.

Milla is the kind of person you want with you if you ever need to survive in the woods. Everywhere we went, starting in the airport parking lot, she was pointing out vegetation you can cultivate and eat. I was so excited to have them with us, because every time I’ve gone I have wanted to talk with them about the garden space behind the pastor’s house, and I thought, “Who better to talk about it than these guys?” Guess what? They were already using it! Carl and Mila gave them some advice, and Carl volunteered to help them get an irrigation system going if they want his help – but they are already growing fruit and vegetables!

The really beautiful thing is that this is happening alongside another decline. While Mercedis Cardenis is still going at 94, she can no longer trade and barter like she used to for the foods they use to feed those in need – particularly the elderly community members who are all younger than her – and this will provide relief in another way.

While these are good and wonderful things all on their own, I hope what you hear from them is more than just, “We did a good thing for those people in Cuba.”

What I want you to hear is the proclamation of the gospel that goes both ways. I want you to hear the example of their faith and the wellspring of joy in being known, seen, and heard through our common unity in Christ. I want you to hear that and know that God is active and present here and now and moving us toward wholeness and peace.

I want you to see their work, and ours with them, as an act of resistance against despair that shines the light of hope that does not care about the politics that divide. I want you to know that the example of Christ’s sacrificial love they display calls us with the same hope – that we might bear fruit together!

Before I left Lafayette, a community member I know said, "They really need the word of God." I replied, "Actually, I really need to hear it from them." I need you to know that I heard it from them, loud and clear, and If anyone’s arms are wide enough to hug you from Cuba it is Pastor Josué Montejo. Of course, he would tell you that it is the arms of Jesus stretched wide on the cross that unites us, and in our celebration of this love at the table of Christ we truly become as one.

On whose authority do I say these things? On the authority of my mother, Mercedis; my brother, Josué; my sisters, Tamara and Santa; and all those in Cuba who follow the way of Jesus – for they have been as Christ to me – I tell you that there is still work to do in the vinyard, and that’s a good thing. We’ll talk more about that next week. For now, let us give thanks and praise that we have heard the gospel proclaimed – in Sabanilla and Lafayette – and that we may yet respond; and to God be the glory, now and always. Amen!

The Little Engine That Could Forgive

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 18 Sep 2023 16:41:00 +0000

Exodus 14:19-31; Romans 14:1-12; Matthew 18:21-35
Our readings focus on judgment and forgiveness, two great tastes that do not usually go so well together! Why is that, and what do I mean by that? To answer that, I will defer to one of the Saints of the church, Al Pfeuffer. Al lived to be 102, and he was such a great example of integrity to those of us who knew him. He lived through a century of change and even learned to use Uber to get to church. Al’s generation had to reconcile the weight of unleashing the horror of Oppenheimer’s vision in the hope of stopping worse horrors from being unleashed.

They lived through the Great Depression, Vietnam, Oil Embargos, and the birth of modern concepts of terrorism. I say all of that as a caveat to a conversation we once had about Matthew 5:43, “Love your enemies and do not hate them.” in which Al confessed that he was not sure how to do that.

To be fair, Al’s generation and those that followed have all lived through a lot and it has not been all that bad. We can talk about the fact that the current generation has more expressed anxiety than any before and about the way that our unresolved cultural issues create patterns that allow old wounds to persist. We can talk about all kinds of things like a living wage and economic disparity, but what does that have to do with judgment and forgiveness?

Do we tell those who have been wronged that they just need to forgive those who have wronged them? Do we tell those who owe a crippling debt to beg forgiveness? Do we take the Exodus reading as permission to celebrate the failure of oppressive systems? Do we take Paul’s words as encouragement that God will certainly judge the people we expect to be judged? Do we take the parable of the wicked servant as a condemnation of usury and credit debt?

Maybe, but while you ponder these things I want to take a moment to talk about auto mechanics. This is not my normal area of expertise, but if it is a matter of changing out a part – which usually requires searching on YouTube and calling my brother-in-law – I can do it.

My current exploration into this wonderland of combustion and simple machinery (which has become smarter than most of us) involves the starter in my wife’s car. Many of you may know what I have learned, however, I will regale you with the tail of this ignition system in simplest terms. The key tells the battery to spin a small motor (which is the starter) to turn over the engine, which begins the ignition process. There is more to it than that of course, but once the engine is running the starter retracts, and the alternator feeds energy back into the battery and related systems.

I am sure there is a mechanic or an engineer in the crowd who will correct me on one of those points, but again, that was in the simplest form I could offer. The important thing is that electricity makes a complete circuit, which seems to be the problem with my starter.

I tell you all of that to say this, forgiveness is what completes the circuit and starts the engine of justice and mercy.

Let us talk about that. First I want to acknowledge the experience of the Israelites as they saw the power of God take out the entire Egyptian army. Exodus 4:31 says “Israel saw the great work that the LORD did against the Egyptians. So, the people feared the Lord and believed in the Lord and in his servant Moses.” Right after that in chapter 15 Moses breaks into a song about it and Miriam breaks out a tambourine, and who can blame her?!

While it is good and right to celebrate salvation, there is yet a Rabbinic tradition that offers caution, saying that the heavens burst in song at the Egyptian’s defeat. Then God silenced them, saying they were my children, too.

Paul’s words seem to echo this idea of judgment tinged with compassion. More than a condemnation of vegetarians, Paul talks about food as it relates to customs of devotion and spiritual practice. He warns his community not to condemn others but to constantly invite them more deeply into Christian community, knowing that each of us will be judged.

Admittedly, the idea of standing before God in the afterlife feels a little more Hellenistic than Jewish, and I think it is meant to be held in balance with what Paul has to say about grace and mercy in Romans 11:6, “And if [salvation is given] by grace, then it cannot be based on works.”

Here, in chapter 14, Paul wants the church to know that judgment simply is not our job. Ours is to discern what is good, right, and faithful. According to Jesus, forgiveness is what is good, right, and faithful, and forgiveness is not just a one-and-done kind of thing.

Most of us operate with some ability to forgive on some level, but even at our most gracious we are apt to say, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice, and I will cut you out of my life because this relationship is toxic.” OK, I added the last one, but that’s kind of how things go these days – and it’s probably nothing new.

I imagine Peter thought seven was a pretty big number. You may recall that just before this parable Jesus talked about the lost sheep and then about a way to bring someone back into the community of the faithful. There is something that I feel I missed last Sunday. In 18:17 Jesus said to treat someone who rejects the correction of the church as a gentile and a tax collector. As confusing as that sounds, having read these two passages together, I feel like there was an undercurrent of, “And how do we treat tax collectors, Matthew?”

Into this ring steps Peter. I love Peter. He always thinks he has it right, and sometimes he does. Sometimes he is so far off that Jesus calls him “Satan” and uses his answer as a teachable moment. This time, Peter says, “So how often do I have to forgive? Seven times?” Jesus answers, “Seven times? Multiply that by seventy and you will be close.”

Peter is expressing something that I’ve kind of been dancing around. Forgiveness is hard work. Between the woundedness that we have felt and our basic survival instincts and the fact that sometimes it just does not seem fair, you would think that seven chances to get it right would be more than enough!

Jesus does not seem to be concerned with that. Jesus is not concerned with forgiveness which is a means to an end. Jesus is concerned with forgiveness as it relates to the Kingdom of Heaven, and he tells a story to describe what that is like. It is a good story, but I have to say that it’s a little hard to connect it to our lived experience – since we don’t have Lords and Kings.

We do have a few super-rich people, though, and they control things like labor markets and such. We could certainly talk about that, but that might be better for a discussion group or private reflection. What I would like you to consider today is what Jesus had to say about the role of forgiveness and justice and mercy.

We start with this crazy amount of debt and an equal amount of compassion in vv 24-27. Then we find, in vv 28-30, that even the smallest amount of compassion is denied to others. This leads to a cry for justice in v 31, and then a reckoning for the servant’s lack of compassion in vv 32-34. Then Jesus wraps it up with a warning that we will receive the same from God if we do not forgive others with the same extravagance as we have been forgiven!

That lesson, that we must forgive as we have been forgiven, is pretty clear, but what are we to do about it when it comes to those that do not seem to be compassionate to others? What are we to do with those who cause harm? What are we to do when we, ourselves, are tempted to bank on forgiveness when we know that permission is simply going to be too hard to get?

First I will say that restraining evil is a good thing to do. When there is clear and obvious harm being done, we need to be able to cry out – like those in v31 – and protect those who cannot protect themselves. We can and must do that within the systems that we are a part of, but we also have to recognize that ultimate judgments are in the hands of God.

Beyond that, I want to remind you about the starter in my wife’s car. Think of it as the function of forgiveness. If the current is the grace and mercy of God, the starter is what puts them in motion to make the engine run! Forgiveness might not literally be the start of the circuit of love and fellowship, but it was in this story. It all began with the overwhelming mercy of the King, and mercy got fouled up when the servant failed to pass it on.

At the end of the day, the thing that really matters about forgiveness is not what it does for the other person. It’s about what it does for you. I do not mind telling you that I once had a supervisor, at Camp Glenkirk, say to me, “You put your foot in your mouth in conversations more than anyone I know, and yet somehow you are able to still be in a good relationship with others. I am not sure how you do that, but I do admire it.” I said, “Thank you? I did not know I did that…maybe it is because I try to give the same level of forgiveness that I need from others.”

What I have come to see in all these things is that God’s forgiveness knows no bounds, and so should mine. That does not mean giving permission to bad behavior. It means recognizing the humanity of the other person and shifting the weight of the relationship from the injury to the cure. We’ve seen this in places like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa after the fall of the Apartheid government. Horrific crimes were forgiven through truth-telling and forgiveness and setting new boundaries for relationships. That is not to say that there are no more racial tensions or that pain does not persist. It is to say that forgiveness completes the circuit to move toward healing and acceptance.

In the end, we do not forgive for the sake of the other – though we may hope that the one we forgive will repent and change – we do it as a matter of character and an expression of identity as followers of Jesus. We forgive others because it releases us. We forgive others because it completes the circuit of grace and mercy and opens up new possibilities we may not yet imagine. It’s just that simple; and it’s just that hard; and to God be the glory for that, now and always. Amen!

Rude Awakening

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 12 Sep 2023 14:19:00 +0000

Exodus 12:1-14; Romans 13:8-14; Matthew 18:15-20

I want to begin with a confession. I know we already did that – and God heard me during the silent, personal prayer – but I need you to know that I did something yesterday that I have not done in a while. I overslept.

I was supposed to be at a board meeting for The Extra Mile, which is an organization that helps families in crisis with everything from foster care to addiction issues. In fact, one of their programs, Avec Les Enfants meets in our education wing every Sunday afternoon to provide a safe and secure place for children to visit with non-custodial parents in a safe manner.

Yesterday’s meeting was set up by our very own Ruling Elder, Brian Wyble, who is the President of that Board, and the purpose of the meeting was to empower the board for the work we do together. While I have no excuse apart from an ailing back from replacing a mailbox post on Friday, suffice it to say that I received a rude awakening when I saw the text message asking me if I would be in attendance.

The message was not rude. The reality of wakefulness and my error were, shall we say, an assault to my senses. To his credit, Brian was gracious as always, as were the other members of the Board.

I do not share this to gloat or to make an example of my error. I say this because I am betting that each of you has had an experience or two where you have been awakened to unexpected circumstances, whether by your own error or by some life event that was beyond your control.

Whether they are good or bad or even unrelated to your life but still impact your understanding of the world, life is full of events that catch us off guard. Most of the time we do our best to keep such things from happening. We set alarms. We lock doors. We associate with those who seem to share our worldview.

Even so, there are times when God breaks in. Granted, there are plenty of times we would love for God to break in – assuming God wants what we want – but often it seems like things are up to us. I do wonder; no – I hope; I believe; I expect that God breaks in through you and through me all the time.

Still, it would be nice if God broke in like in our reading today, right? Well…nice for us. It was pretty terrible for the Egyptians. I have to admit, going after the firstborn of the Egyptians AND their livestock seems pretty cold. In the words of the comedian, Taylor Tomlinson, “The Old Testament is like my favorite Taylor Swift album – just banger after banger of break-up songs!”

Here we have God’s instructions for the biggest breakup the Israelites have ever known – with blood on the door and firstborn on the floor – but notice this: It begins with invitation, moves to celebration, and ends in sanctification. God’s people are told to waste nothing, come together if there is anyone in need, and get ready to go – and as they went they became a statement to the world of the active presence of the one true God of Israel!

These people, and the people of Egypt, have awakened to a new reality – a reality that is beyond slavery in Egypt and dependent on the grace of God. In his letter to the church in Rome, Paul the Apostle describes those who follow the way of Jesus the same way. We have been set free from the slavery of sin by the grace and mercy of God!

Paul uses the word grace more times in the letter to the church in Rome than any other. Maybe they really needed to hear that salvation is not something we earn. It is God’s choice to love us regardless of our choices. That’s not to say that our choices don’t matter. It is to say that our choices don’t determine God’s – which is where grace (unmerited favor) comes in.

Paul talks a lot about slavery to sin and release by grace through the first several chapters. It’s good stuff! I recommend reading it. That all leads up to chapter 8 where he wants us to know that we have been adopted through faith into the family and household of God. That raises the question about the firstborn of God’s family – the children of Israel – and Paul spends the next couple of chapters talking about their inclusion and the new life we share in Christ in chapters 9-12.

All that leads up to chapter 13 the summary of the law and some instructions for how to love others as much as you love yourself. Incidentally, one of the most interesting critiques I’ve heard of the modern evangelical movement (and to some extent, old-school Calvinism) is that a worldview that says that we are not worthy of God’s love results in a worldview that no one is worthy of God’s love.

Nowhere in here does Paul describe our unworthiness. He describes what it is like to be enslaved by sin in chapter seven, but his point here is to love others in the same way that Christ has loved us – compassionately, faithfully, and gracefully. For some, the very idea that we are loved regardless of what we do or do not deserve is a rude awakening, but to this Paul says, “Wake up, it’s time for salvation!”

It’s important to note here that Paul’s expectation was that the return of Jesus would be imminent, or in the words of the incomparable Tom Waits, “Jesus gunna be here, be here soon.” There is nothing in Paul’s writings that indicates, to my knowledge, that the return of Jesus meant conflict. Instead, it meant that conflict would end, particularly for those who followed the way of Jesus.

For example, when he used illustrations like the “armor of God” in Ephesians 6, he was saying, “instead of a breastplate, use righteousness – be in right relationships with God and one another.” Likewise, in Romans 13:12, “The armor of light” meant living as one who has been redeemed. “Putting on the Lord Jesus Christ” in v13 meant changing your motivation from an androcentric (person-centered) worldview to a God-centered worldview.

That doesn’t mean looking down on others and relativizing sin and suffering. It means recognizing that God is active and present in all things and then living in the light of God’s presence always! A “God-centered worldview” is so much more than “What would Jesus do?” It’s more like asking, “What is God doing? What is God inviting me into? What does salvation and redemption look like for me and for those God has given me to love or to endure?”

Answering that question may be exciting to you! It might also be like the alarm that I turned off yesterday morning. We all have our limits. I get that. I really do. Fortunately, God’s grace does not, though I have to say that our reading from Matthew’s Gospel, taken on its own, does not feel very grace-filled.

Of course, that’s why our tradition does not take scripture out of context or view it as individual, literal truths. We view scripture as authoritative and sufficient, but we interpret it through the lens of grace and through the context of the setting. Here’s what I mean by that.

Chapter 17 ends with a discussion about taxes and children, just as chapter 18 begins with Jesus telling everyone to become as children in order to enter the Kingdom of God. He follows that with the temptation to sin – which includes leading little ones astray – and delivers the parable of the lost sheep; where the shepherd leaves the 99 for the sake of the one.

All of that is a setup for these instructions on regaining one who has strayed – which seems a bit more like an intervention than a celebration. Then in 18:18, there is a call back to 16:19 where Jesus warns them that what they bind or loosen on earth will be so in heaven. We talked about that passage a few weeks ago, and the fact that Jesus said that in front of the shrine to Pan and the “gate to the underworld.”

The emphasis in the text here seems to be that our agreement, as followers of Jesus, is what God wants. How I wish that meant that all we have to do is agree on a need and ask God together, but I suspect that’s not exactly what Jesus had in mind. I suspect it has more to do with aligning our wills with God’s than aligning God’s with ours, and I think Jesus drives this home in v21 when Peter asks, O so sheepishly, “So…how many times do we need to forgive someone who has been baaad? Is seven times enough.” (Sorry. I couldn’t resist.) Jesus responds, “Peter, you may be the G.O.A.T., but try seventy times 7.” Essentially this was to say that there is no end to God’s forgiveness, so let there be none for ours.

Having said that, it’s still pretty hard to see grace in v17, “if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a gentile and a tax collector.” The only way I can make sense of it is to remember the role of choice. In this case, as difficult as it is to realize, the offending member is the one rejecting the church.

God’s goal is still inclusion, but it is not coercion. God’s choice is always love, and as much as it pains me to say it, the church may not always be the best vessel of God’s love. That does not mean we should not try. It just means we need to be honest about our limitations even as we are hopeful in God’s limitless love because we are still sanctified for the work of proclamation!

As jarring a wake-up call as the project of inclusion can be, it is only the beginning! Just as the Israelites were celebrated and sanctified, so are we! Through the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ, we are set free from sin and commissioned by God to love as we have been loved!

In fact, I want you to look at the vision and mission statements on the front of your bulletin and read them with me as a confirmation of God’s commissioning of this congregation.

Vision Statement (how we see ourselves – our basic identity): We are a community of believers grounded in the Reformed Tradition of Christian faith and growing through the experience of God’s love.

Mission Statement (how we hope to enact our identity): We are grounded in the practice of loving God…with all of our hearts as we build and maintain relationships and a public witness of welcome and concern; with all of our souls as we express gratitude through our generosity of spirit; with all of our minds as we experience God’s activity in the world. As we grow, we seek to love God and neighbor and self equally with all that we have and all that we are.

These are good words, and we spent a lot of time deciding how to say these things. Hopefully, you see the summary of the law in there, as well as a nod to our Reformed heritage (which I’d be glad to talk more about some other time). If you go to our website, you’ll also see some core values that unpack all this a little further.

Here’s the thing, though. The Session does not care if you memorize these words or these core values. They only wrote these as an attempt to describe who we are and what we do as God’s people.

In that workshop that I mentioned, the one I almost missed from oversleeping, we talked about how much more important it is to tell others about one thing you value about the organization than to tell them everything there is to say.

The same goes for this place, but I would add one more. Who we are will be determined by how we live in the light of the Kingdom of God. How do we live in this light? We put on the mantle of faith. We look first to the command of Jesus and the summary of the law and then to our neighbor as the first and best opportunity to love as we have been loved.

Beloved of God, we have been named, claimed, and sanctified for one purpose: to love as we have been loved. It starts with knowing that you are loveable and beloved, and it finds fullness when you help someone else know that about themselves – even when they oversleep.

It’s just that simple, and it’s just that hard, and to God be the glory for that – now and always. Amen!

Perseverance

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 05 Sep 2023 16:46:00 +0000

Exodus 3:1-15; Romans 12:9-21; Matthew 16:21-28

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.” That’s what Paul told the church in Rome during the time of its formation. During that time the church opposed the state of Rome, and later it would become the religion of the state of Rome. That is not to disparage the faith of our Roman Catholic siblings. Rather it is to say how remarkable the work of God can be when we follow these words, “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.”

There are, of course, inherent dangers when the church becomes the state religion, but that’s another sermon for another day. Also, most of us in the Reformed tradition of faith would probably agree that it does not usually end well for Jesus when religion and the state collude.

We can talk about that later if you like, but right now I want to stay focused on Paul’s advice to “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, and persevere in prayer.” Our hope is grounded in the grace and mercy of God, and so worship always begins with praise and confession and celebration for our release from sin and death. It may seem odd to go from there to patience in suffering – and I sincerely hope that “patience in suffering” does not describe the next part of the service which includes the sermon – but Paul was simply acknowledging the reality of life. As they say, “Into each life some rain must fall.” (And every sermon is not a banger.)

Incidentally, a friend once advised me never to pray for patience. She said, “I realized one day that the only way to gain patience is through trials… so I stopped praying for patience.” I’m not sure that’s how it works, but I know that Paul tells us to be patient. Easy for him to say, from prison… except that he gave us a key to the way out – persevere in prayer.

It’s like Dori, right? Just keep praying. Just keep praying. What do you do when you want to PRAY… [Lay reader interrupts. “Stop! That song. Now it’s stuck in my head!”]

Wow. Earwormed you, huh? [Uh-huh] Fascinating. Alright, I know how to fix that. I bet all I have to say is something like The Lord of the Dance or AmazingGrace, and it will clear that right up. Better?

[Yes, but now I’m thinking about those songs.]

I get that, but those aren’t so bad, are they? [No.] Ok. Can I keep going? [Yes.] Good.

So, speaking of earworms – songs that get stuck in your head – I have to admit that over the years I have had a love/hate relationship with the hymn, Here I Am, Lord. [Jake slams keys]

Apparently, I am not alone. I can’t speak for Jake, but for me, I think it is because – when I am truly honest with myself – I realize that there are times when I have sung these words sincerely and failed to back them up with my life. I think it is because I know that I have had times when I have denied God’s voice because I did not see a burning bush, or because I did not think I was good enough, smart enough, or worthy enough. Maybe you’ve been there?

I’ve asked a few friends to help us reflect on these types of experiences. They are going to share with you now a Reader’s Theater piece from the book, The Next Voice You Hear: Sermons We PreachTogether. This story is called, Here I Am, Send Claude.

Reader 1: The thing about burning bushes is – they get our attention!

It’s not that Yahweh God loves showing off, or anything like that.

Reader 2: “For my next trick, I present – a burning bush!”

Reader 1: Burning bushes come in many forms, in all sizes and shapes.

We are going about our own business, like Moses there at Horeb,

And suddenly our attention is captured…

Reader 2: By neighbors without homes or adequate housing,

Or the mistreatment of a colleague at work,

Or the weeds in the church garden,

Or the suffering of a good friend,

Or whatever…

Reader 1: We see a need, by George, someone ought to do something!

Someone has got to start caring!

We can stand it no longer; the problem cannot be ignored.

It will not go away by itself. Something must be done.

And lo and behold, we are there, standing at our burning bush.

God has captured our attention, pinpointed a particular need,

At work… in the neighborhood… at church… in the family... in the world…

Someone has to start doing something – that is clear at burning bushes.

But who is going to do it? That is not so clear. Who will tackle the job?

This is the part of the message we have trouble understanding.

The need is clear, but the name we keep hearing as we stand by that bush,

The name of the doer God has in mind must be a mistake. It is our own name.

Reader 2: Moses! Moses!

Reader 1: Here I am.

Reader 2: Moses, go down to Egypt Land. Tell old Pharaoh to let my people go.

Reader 1: Right, Lord, something must be done in Egypt; someone must help your people

there. Thank goodness you see the need. It is about time you got around to acting. Congratulations, Lord. I am all for the project. Here I am, Lord, but send Dottie.

Dottie: Here I am, Lord, but I am already serving on three important committees;

Send Gladene.

Gladene: Here I am, Lord, but I have a house full of reweaving to finish;

Send Carol.

Carol: Here I am, Lord, but working full-time, and running a hotel for relatives, is all I can

do; Send Dave.

Dave: Here I am, Lord, but I just got 10,000 likes for a cat video!

Send Sue.

Sue: Here I am, Lord, but I’ve got to find a job;

Send Bill.

Bill: Here I am, Lord, but it is not in my job description;

Send Claude.

All: Who’s Claude?

Reader 2: Here I am…Send Claude!

It is natural, one supposes, to feel somewhat inadequate when confronting

burning bushes. It is natural, one supposes when we really have our attention

directed to a crucial need in human life, to feel our own resources are not

sufficient.

Reader 1: At burning bushes, we empathize with Moses, as he shouts out…

Reader 2: I am not religious enough for this job, Lord. I can’t go to Egypt; I am a wanted man

there. I am not a public speaker. Here I am, but Dottie is friendlier; Send her.

Dottie: Gladene is more conscientious; Send her.

Gladene: Carol has been a member longer; Send her.

Carol: Dave is taller; Send him.

Dave: Sue has seminary training; Send her.

Sue: Bill has more experience; Send him.

Bill: Here I am, Lord; Send Claude.

All: Who’s Claude?

Reader 1: The trouble with burning bushes is they don’t go away. At burning bushes, we see

a need. We may feel inadequate. We may be sure someone else could do it better. We may not want to be bothered. We wish the bush would go away.

But burning bushes are very personal; that burning bush is for me.

Reader 2: Not Dottie, Not Gladene, Not Carol, Not Dave, Not Sue, Not Bill, Not Claude…

Reader 1: The burning bush I meet is my own. It is my name I hear called. There God calls

me to meet the particular human need I see. No matter how I try to escape,

The name that is called remains the same.

Reader 2: Moses! Moses!

Reader 1: It is my name.

Reader 2: Moses! Moses!

Reader 1: Here I am; send Dottie.

Dottie: Send Gladene.

Gladene: Send Carol.

Carol: Send Dave.

Dave: Send Sue.

Sue: Send Bill.

Bill: Send Claude.

All: Who’s Claude?

Reader 1: But the burning bush is not for Claude; it is for me. Claude has his own bush.

The bush I see, the need God puts before my eyes, in my mind, on my heart,

has my name written on it, and my name alone.

Reader 2: “And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for

us?’ Then I said, ‘Here I am! Send me!’”

Yeah! That feels good. Here I am, Lord! Send me! It is good, and right, and important to know and to understand that we are called by God. It is good, and right, and important to find some way to respond to that calling. It is also very normal and very human for us to immediately disregard a calling that tells us to let go of our need to define and control so that we can be open to God’s will for our lives. It is very normal and very human to hear God’s calling to a life that involves constant death of the self and resurrection to new ways of being in the world and to look Jesus in the eye, just as Peter did, and say, “Get outa’ here! You gotta be kiddin’ me!”

And for that, Jesus called Peter, Satan. Peter – the one to whom Jesus just said he would give the keys to the kingdom and on whose faith he said would build his church – this Peter has become Satan to him?!

And so do we – we become Satan to Jesus in those times when we focus on our desires rather than the will of God. And what is the will of God? As we have it today, the will of God is to be known as the God who was, who is, and who always shall be. The will of God is to be known through the story of a particular people. The will of God is to be known through our willingness to let go of our needs in service of God’s needs, and it is the will of God to offer the opportunity of experiencing heaven here and now through our attention and response to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ!

Now, I realize that all that sounds great. I also realize that, apart from an old song we love, it can be hard to do. The idea of experiencing heaven here and now, well, it just doesn’t sound very practical. I mean – how do you do that, anyway? Let me give you an example.

In 2008 the Faith Christian Lions of Grapevine, Texas had secured their spot in the state playoffs for their division – private schools. It was the last game of the season, and they were playing a throw-away game against the Gainsville State Tornados. Gainsville State is a youth penitentiary school, and the team was filled with players who had about as much hope in their lives as they had chances of winning that game – none.

The Tornados players were incarcerated students who had earned the right to play football. They did not have a field and always played as visitors. Their only fans were the few staff members who accompanied them, most of whom were on security detail. They entered the locker room under tight security with their heads down, and they emerged that night to find something they had never experienced and never expected.

The Faith Lions fans are divided. Men, women, and children formed a spirit tunnel stretching 30 yards, complete with a banner for them to tear through at the end! The JV Cheerleaders cheered for them on their side! Programs were made just for their team. Lions Parents were given the names and jersey numbers of Tornados players, and they sat on the visitor’s side and cheered for the Tornados players by name as they crashed into their own children in the fiercest night of competition the Tornados had ever participated in. Afterward, both teams joined for prayer – and members of both teams prayed for and with one another.

It wasn’t that big a deal to the Faith Lions fans and players, but it was the first time many of the Tornados players had ever been given something to hope for. More than that, it was a particularly Christian witness of hope from a particular people of God.

It is my hope, it is my prayer, and it is my belief that we are a particular people who are responding faithfully to that call. When I tell people that this little congregation of just around 100 members has partnered with others to install and maintain a clean water system in Cuba that is even being used medicinally – the health clinic has prescribed drinking this water and it has cured diseases (that’s how bad the water table is polluted)!

Not only that but every week we deploy volunteers from at least 3 congregations that serve over 30 hrs delivering meals to homebound elderly members. Not only that but every Sunday afternoon, we provide a safe space for court-ordered visitations through The Extra Mile Les Enfants program.

But wait, there’s more! Not only that, but our ministry umbrella (ella) includes Westley United Campus Ministries, United Christian Outreach, Campus Cupboard, ULL’s Native Bee Lab, and responsiveness in disasters. Even selling safe, reduced-rate parking to students and Mardi Gras revelers and Festival attendees support all these things (and Camp Agape), and it all flows from our connectedness in the community and the hard work of this congregation, and praise God for that!

In the midst of all of that, the pageantry of life plays out before us. Births and deaths; promotions and layoffs; surgeries, school work, and unexpected kindnesses that get thrown our way all require hope, and patience, and perseverance. That is why we gather online and in person. We gather to rejoice in hope, remain patient in suffering, and persevere in prayer together!

We have a lot to be hopeful about. Even with all of our limitations, we are an intimate, welcoming, and vital congregation – especially when we remember the risks we are called to take as we follow Jesus. As it has been said, “Everybody wants to get into heaven, but nobody wants to die.” The good news is that we don’t have to wait until we die to live as citizens of the kingdom of God! God’s calling is clear. Moses, who fled Egypt after murdering one of his oppressors, was sent back to the scene of the crime to proclaim release. And so it is with you and with me around this table today.

May God add an even more particular understanding of God’s call to all who have received these words, as we continue to seek new ways to respond as individuals and as a particular people of God, holy and beloved. Amen!

You Rock!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 29 Aug 2023 18:20:00 +0000

Exodus 1:8-2:10; Romans 12:1-8; Matthew 16:13-20

Before I get going here, I want you to know that you rock! I’ll explain that a little more later, but if no one has told you all week how amazing you are I want you to know it right now. You are an amazing and wonderful child of God! The next thing I want to say before getting down to the preachin’ is that these texts are so wonderful and rich and I hope you’ll spend some more time with them later. I’ll be focusing on the reading from Matthew today, but there is so much more to discover about God and God’s desire for your life in the other texts as well.

As for today, I’d like to start with the question Jesus asks in our text. “Who do you say that I am?” That’s the question that Jesus asked Peter in Caesarea Philippi, a place of commerce and pagan worship (even worship of the state of Rome itself). Some also say it was a place that was full of decadence and immorality.

It may seem silly to ask us the same question, “Who do we say that Jesus is?”, yet there are times when I wonder if we know who Jesus really is. To be clear, when I say “we” I am talking about the collective witness of Christianity in the world. I’m not talking about the long-suffering faithful witnesses of First Presbyterian Church. I’m talking about the struggle of being the church in a world that seems very interested in using the name of Jesus, or Christianity, like a brand to sell merchandise (or excite a base of voters) rather than a way to describe our relationship with God and God’s good creation.

When I see the news and I hear of the alignment of some in the Christian faith with right-wing politics and nationalist priorities (priorities that do not benefit everyone in our nation equally), I wonder who we – as the body of Christ – are saying Jesus truly is.

In my more hopeful times, I affirm the Book of Order of the Presbyterian Church USA which draws on our Book of Confessions to affirm that we are “one holy catholic and apostolic church.” In case that has ever confused you, catholic means universal. It means that all who follow the way of Jesus make up the church together. Apostolic means in the tradition of the Apostles (those Jesus gave authority to, as we see in today’s reading). Likewise, the Book of Order affirms the words of Paul who testifies to the church in Ephesus (Eph. 4:5–6), that there is “one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

The Book of Order goes on to say that “Division into different denominations obscures but does not destroy unity in Christ. The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), affirming its historical continuity with the whole Church of Jesus Christ, is committed to the reduction of that obscurity, and is willing to seek and to deepen communion with all other churches within the one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

That sounds great. Very big of us to think we can have such an effect on the church, isn’t it? And yet, the whole point of the Protestant Reformation and Reformed Theology in the first place was to say, “Let’s see if there’s a way that we can be more faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ together!”

I must confess that while I hold fast to the hope of unity in the Spirit of God, sometimes I wonder if Jesus looks at what Christianity has become, and says, “Hey, guys. That’s not really what I had in mind.”

I’ve asked a few friends to help me illustrate this point today. For a moment I want you to pretend we are in a fast food restaurant. We’ll call it “McJesus." I will be the cashier, standing behind the communion table. The customers will be lining up on the lectern side and will come through one at a time.

Cashier: Cha-Ching.... Welcome to McJesus. May I take your order, please?

Warm-fuzzy: Yeah, I'm not sure what you call it but I want the Jesus that gives me everything I ask for. You know, answers all my prayers immediately. And I've got a pretty long list so you better make it with the works.

Cashier: I'm sorry, we're all out of the Sugar Daddy Jesus today.

Warm-fuzzy: Oh. Well, I guess I'd settle for a Jesus who won't ever let anything really bad happen to me. You see I don't like pain. Pain hurts me.

Cashier: Oh! You want the Warm Fuzzy Jesus

Warm-fuzzy: Yeah, with extra gushy, mushy love.

Cashier: Give me a Warm Fuzzy - extra sweet! Cha-Ching.... Welcome to McJesus. May I take your order, please?

Judge: I'd like the condemning Jesus #5.

Cashier: Will that be with or without mercy?

Judge: Hold the mercy.

Cashier: Will you have any lightning bolts with that?

Judge: Yeah extra lightning bolts.

Cashier: Wow, you must have a lot of enemies.

Judge: Well, I'd like to think that I'm just trying to clean up the world a little bit. You know, get rid of the people who don’t fit my worldview.

Cashier: Oh I see, kind of a selective early judgment day.

Judge: Yeah, and someone who'll let me hate these people without feeling guilty.

Cashier: You're in luck! We're running a special today on the Terminator Jesus

Judge: Righteous.

Cashier: Is there anything else?

Judge: I'll be back.

Cashier: Ba Bing. Next!

Sunday: I would like to buy three dollars worth of Jesus, please. Not enough to make me a fanatic or drastically alter my lifestyle but just enough to make me feel comfortable. I don't want enough of him to make me love someone who makes me feel uncomfortable, and I don’t want to feel compelled to do something about injustice or suffering. Just give me a pound of the supernatural in a paper sack.

Cashier: Anything else?

Sunday: That's all.

Cashier: Give me the number 7. Cha-Ching ... Welcome to McJesus. May I take your order, please?

Jesus Follower: Yes, I'd like the real Jesus, please.

Cashier: Will that be the real Jesus number 1, 2 or 3?

Jesus Follower: How can there be more than one real Jesus?

Cashier: This is McJesus, where you can have any kind of Jesus you want! C'mon, have it your way.

Jesus Follower: I don't want him in my way. ... Maybe I'm in the wrong place. I want the one true Jesus. The one in the Bible.

Cashier: Oh the bible. Why didn't you say that before? You need to go to our McBible location on Southside

Jesus Follower: McBible?

Cashier: Yeah McBible. They have 33 different varieties of the good book to choose from. With or without miracles. No prophecy, extra prophecy. Cut and paste versions. You name it!

Jesus Follower: No thanks. I'll stick with the bible I've got.

Cashier: Suit yourself. NEXT!

Of course, these are all archetypes and none of them describe us completely, but aren’t there times when we want Jesus our way? The good news is that the real Jesus – who is revealed in scripture – stands before the 24-hour news feed and all the hashtags and filters of social media to ask us, “Who do you say that I am?”

The text, as we read it said, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” Some texts translate the Son of Man as the human one to make the point that Jesus is the paragon of humanity – the ideal version of what God intends us to be.

Scholars disagree over what it actually means as an honorific, but a common idea is to recognize Jesus as “one of us” while also being “Emanuel – God with us.” I like to think of Jesus saying, “So, we’re in a pretty different place. Caesarea Phillipi is hella-Hellenized. What are people saying about – this guy.”

The interesting thing about Caesaria Phillipi was not only the coastal vibe but also their shrine to the God Pan and the cave of wonders that was later characterized as the gates of the underworld or – you guessed it – the Gates of Hell.

When Simon guessed the word of the day – the Messiah, which means God’s anointed one – Jesus said, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter [which means rock], and on this rock, I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.”

There is so much truth in these three sentences! First, Simon is named “Son of Jonah.” You know Jonah, right? He spent three days in the belly of a great fish and was spat up on the sand to share the word of repentance to his enemies, the Ninevites. Simon is now the bearer of the tradition of Jonah, the prophet who prefigures Christ by submitting to God, facing death, and offering redemption through repentance.

How can Simon, Son of Jonah know this? Only through his attendance to the active presence of God which Jesus names as his Father. For this reason, Jesus calls him Peter; transforming his identity by his purpose; and naming his purpose as the foundation of the church.

Of course, we’ll find out next week how Peter immediately flips back to his own fears, but for right now let’s enjoy what Peter has been given. In verses 19-20, Jesus says, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”

While the church has, for centuries, seen these words as instruction that we should be the gatekeepers for who is eternally bound and who is set loose, one commentary I read suggested another take. The community of Christians who shared Matthew’s gospel were primarily Jewish. They needed more permission to let others in than instruction on who to keep out. What if this is more of an encouragement to be welcoming and in some ways a warning against exclusion? Jesus knows he will not be physically present forever, and he is counting on Peter – and those who follow him – not with the keys to the gates of Hell but to the Kingdom of Heaven.

Now we come to why I told you at the beginning that you rock! You see, when I first moved here in 2010 there was something that just didn’t seem right. One day I realized it was because I’m from the foothills of north Georgia, and there are no rocks in the soil here. Once I realized that I began to look for other assurances that the world was stable and good, and guess where I found it? Right here.

You, who are members of the body of Christ; children of Johna; beloved proclaimers of Jesus as the Messiah; people who are gifted by the Spirit of God – even if you struggle to see it; people who seek to witness to the truth at board meetings and bedsides; living sacrifices who demonstrate love and mercy; people who are striving to be transformed by the renewing of your minds in Christ Jesus; midwives and siblings who seek to shelter the promise of new life for yourselves and others – YOU ROCK! You rock, because of those times you remain open to the active presence of God – especially when you aren’t sure about it.

Certainly, there are qualities about each of you that are unique and magnificent (Paul calls them spiritual gifts), but we are here for something greater than ourselves. We are here to stand at the door and say, “Welcome. You are God’s beloved.” While we are certain that this congregation offers community and truth we know that we only have a portion of the whole.

Our Book of Order states that “because in Christ the Church is one, it strives to be one. To be one with Christ is to be joined with all those whom Christ calls into relationship with him. To be thus joined with one another is to become priests for one another, praying for the world and for one another and sharing the various gifts God has given to each Christian for the benefit of the whole community.”

I am the church. You are the church. Yes, we are the church together. All of God’s children, all around the world. We are the church together, and we stand at the gates of suffering together to offer another way. At least I pray that it may be so with me, and with you, and to God be the glory. Now and always. Amen.

What the World Needs Now

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 22 Aug 2023 17:50:00 +0000

Genesis 45:1-15; Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32; Matthew 15:10-28
I’d like to begin with a little word association to get our brains charged up a bit because there is a lot going on in our readings today. Most of you have done this with me before, but just so we are clear, I’m going to throw out a word and I want you to shout out the first thing that comes to mind. Just remember that this is a family show.

Those who are online are also welcome to type your response in the comments. Here’s your first word: friend. (Pause for answers) Great! The next word is “welcome.” (Pause for answers) Great! Here’s your last one: need. (Pause for answers) Great!

Ok, here’s one I just want you to think about. Don’t say it out loud, just think about it. In fact, think of it as a prayer. It’s also more of a fill-in-the-blank. Are you ready? Alright. “What the world needs right now is _______.”

If this were a game show we would have some fun synth music in the back and everyone would be writing furiously on a large blue card with a black marker and hoping that their answer was worth $10,000. Fortunately, we are not on a game show, and I would argue that your answer is not something we could monetize.

I do not know what it is that God put on your heart to say what the world needs (or needs more of), but I believe the texts we have read speak of something that the world has needed and always will – and that is empathy. That word is not specifically used in the text, but the concept of caring for others, because we see their needs as our own, is clear.

Joseph can’t hold back his tears of joy and compassion as he sees his brothers and learns of his father. More than that, Joseph interprets all that has come before as the result of God’s compassion for all of them. Just in this brief portion of the story, their interactions move from disclosure to confession; from blame to providence; from separation to embrace; from speaking to an official to speaking with their brother.

In Romans 11, Paul is addressing questions of the church in Rome about their spiritual siblings. They wanted to know who was right; who was beloved; and how they were to manage this faith in Jesus. Admittedly, Paul uses some Dr. Suess-level double talk in this passage, but he’s kind of bad about that in Romans.

The lectionary text also cuts out a big chunk (v2-28) where Paul sets up a theology of grace where he reminds us that we can’t earn God’s love because grace is about God’s choice to love us. He also makes it clear that he is talking to non-Jewish followers of Jesus, and that God’s election to love them does not cancel out God’s choice to love those that God has chosen before. We are engrafted into the same family of faith regardless of our obedience to the law or even our rebellion against God.

That all sounds good, right? God loves us. God loves them. We are spiritual siblings through God’s grace and mercy. It’s all very kumbaya until Paul says (v32), “God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all.”

I don’t know about you, but to me, “Imprisoned in disobedience” sounds more like a metal band album than a dispensation of grace or a call to empathy. This is the kind of thing that – again, for me – I have to hold in tension with what I understand to be the mission of Jesus and the fact that even Paul was limited by his language and understanding of the divine. I don’t want to let him totally of the hook, though. We need to wrestle with this a bit first.

For one thing, Paul is saying that there is no difference in the eyes of God between former struggles and present struggles. Formerly the Gentiles did not know about the active and indwelling presence of God. The Hebrew people had known for generations, but their rejection of Jesus challenged their ability to live fully in the presence of God.

While Paul was trying to thread the needle between ancestry and inclusion, we need to be very careful here. We need to be very careful with ideas that inadvertently veer off into antisemitism. In fact, that is actually Paul’s point. He wanted the church to know that God has always been active and present in and through all of creation, and God remains active and present in those – both then and now – who are descendants of those God first claimed. Those who understand God and neighbor and self through Judaism and those who follow the way of Jesus are to see one another as God’s beloved.

Speaking of Jesus and empathy and mutuality – today’s text is…problematic. Partially it is, once again, because of the limitation of language, but also because it is a passage highlighting the humanity of Jesus which may be a little hard to take. I mentioned before the reading that it is preceded by a run-in with the Pharisees in which Jesus counts them as a plant not planted by God that will be pulled out by the roots and then told the crowd a parable about true righteousness.

Jesus does not seem to be very empathetic toward the Pharisees, and he seems even less so toward the Canaanite woman who has come to plead for mercy for her daughter. The terms he used are ethnically and racially charged, and Jesus used them intentionally and dismissively. Amy-Jill Levine, writing for the Women’s Bible Commentary, affirms the intentionality of the author of Matthew’s gospel, stating that her identification “recalls the original struggle between the Hebrews and the indigenous population of the land, and it also recollects the Canaanite woman of the genealogy [such as] Rahab and… Tamar.”

Great. What do we do with that? I think we have to recognize the humanity of Jesus in all of this. I don’t mean his brokenness. Jesus is still the one without sin, and not just because I need him to be in order to uphold a belief system that is actually a house of cards. Jesus is without sin because he is yet able to grow and be transformed into a better version of himself. He is able to see her faith. He is able to see her as more than a “dog begging for scraps.” He is able to see her as the agent of his own growth even as she is embraced as a child of God.

To be clear, he never calls her a child of God, but he says, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” It’s also worth noting that we never see her daughter – though we presume here to have been healed – because this story is not about healing. This story is about Jesus practicing what he is preaching.

He’s in a region that is as far north as he will ever go, and some say it was to get away from the Pharisees and perhaps the crowds and the fame that was beginning to follow him. He was in a region that was unlikely to be populated by the children of Israel. Who knows, maybe he was having some caregiver fatigue. Yet he is confronted here by the same message he used to condemn the Pharisees – devotion without compassion misses the mark.

What the world needed then, and now, and will need tomorrow is devotion realized through compassion, or as I like to think of it, empathy.

Empathy can be hard work, especially with those that we feel justified in not seeing their viewpoint. I think Jesus’s example with the Pharisees is still a good one. Sure, they were the keepers of law and culture in the face of repression, but they had become the monster in order to defeat another. We can still be compassionate for people like that. We just can’t allow them to do harm even as we seek to see and honor their humanity.

Honoring one another’s humanity as a reflection of God’s divinity is really what it all comes down to. While this is clearly something we do for others, according to The Public Relations Society of America, it benefits us as well. An article on their website cites research which finds that, “possessing empathy is crucial for good mental health[. Being] able to connect with others and share enough of yourself to feel connected in return adds immeasurably to relationship happiness.”

While the article is about productive work environments, they go on to say that, “Empathy enables us to give and receive grace, have honest conversations …about our human experience…, and encourage improvement and growth. Demonstrating empathy will have a lasting impact and help shape your relationships for years to come.”

I like how they sell empathy on its personal benefits, which are real and true, but our hope is always in something greater than ourselves that still involves us, corrects us, and nurtures us toward a greater end. Speaking of that. I want you to think about the thing that you think the world needs. Whatever it is, I want to encourage you to think about the way you can make even the smallest impact on that need through compassion and empathy and connecting with others as children of God.

This might be new to you, or it could be old hat, but I invite you to think about it either way as a gift from God for you today. At least I pray it may be so with me, and for you, and to God be the glory now and always. Amen!

Ps 23 – Surely Goodness and Mercy (Psalm 23 pt 6)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 07 Aug 2023 14:52:00 +0000

Psalm 23; Romans 8:12-17

I am sure you have noticed by the emphasis on v.6 in our reading of the 23rd Psalm, today is the last Sunday in our series on the 23rd Psalm. While I had hoped that you might respond like my kids did long ago with favorite childhood stories, I’m not surprised that none of you said, “No! Let’s read it again!”

I say that knowing that we could probably read the 23rd Psalm every Sunday, and it would only encourage you all the more. That is one of the reasons that we read it in the style of Lectio Divina this week, and I hope that you were able to open yourself up to some new or deeper revelation through it. If not, I encourage you to try again some other time and see what new things the Spirit may yet reveal to you through these faithfully inspired words about the providence of God.

Last time we used this technique I asked you to share what struck you anew and how you felt God was moving through this text. Today I’ll let that be between you and God unless you want to tell me after worship.

Right now I want to do a quick review for anyone who may have missed out on any part of our journey through 23rd Psalm. We began with v1, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” and we considered the abundance of God’s grace and mercy and the providence of God that begins here and flows through this entire Psalm.

With v2, “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters” we discussed the idea of the sabbath keeping from the perspective of Jesus in Matthew 12, which is based less on following a rule and more on compassion for all whom God loves. Jesus demonstrated this in Matthew 12 by healing on the Sabbath and reminding us that the Sabbath was created because of our limitations rather than God’s.

John and Kris Newman helped us out for vv3-4. John connected v3, “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake,” with the prophet Micah’s call to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Kris followed that up with v4 “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” and the recognition that – even though the “right path” can take us to places of darkness – we are never alone, and the perfect love of God casts out all fears and keeps us moving!

That led us to v5, where God “prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies. God anoints us with oil; and our cups overflow.” Along with that, we heard the words of Jesus that are perhaps the most difficult of all, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”

Fortunately, we were surrounded by our friends from Grace Presbyterian Church as we considered the idea that the table might even be a place to welcome those with whom we’ve become estranged.

In fact, loving others proactively and seeing our humanity reflected in theirs may even be a way to get past the ideologies and attitudes that divide us into enemy camps in the first place!

Well, as I was reflecting on all these things and thinking about how they are all – the green pastures and the dark valleys; friends and enemies – an expression of the providence of God, I was struck again by the end of Matthew 5:45, “so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” I was struck by the idea that it sounds so transactional, and perhaps it is, but I really think it is more invitational.

It has more to do with living into the promise of God than earning it, for God’s love and favor is not something we can earn like a merit badge. That’s not because of how God works. That’s because of how love works.

When I put gas in my wife’s car (which I rarely do) it’s not to earn her affection, it’s because I love her. All of us want to be loved in some way, and sometimes that comes out in all kinds of affirmation-seeking behaviors. That is not inherently bad, by the way. Knowing your needs and expressing them is healthy. We just have to be careful not to expect love and affirmation to be transactional.

What we can expect, at least from God, is that we have been included, through the love of Jesus who is the Christ, into the house and family of God! For those followers of the way of Jesus in Rome, Paul knew that they would hear this as those who either had been or longed to be included in families that held the status of Roman citizenship.

Surely they would hear and understand that God, through Jesus, was engrafting them into an even greater and more privileged status than Roman citizenship! He doesn’t come right out and use the word “privileged,” though. “In fact,” he says in v17, “we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”

Really, Paul? You’re not selling this following Jesus thing so well, are you? Maybe that’s why there are those that speak as though their faith does give them a privileged status, but that’s not what we’re here to celebrate today. We are here to celebrate the fact that you are God’s beloved child, and God hears you when you call out – whether in joy or sorrow.

There are certainly others who do not know that they are as beloved – though surely they are – but you and I are here because we know that we are loved by the One who is the source of all love. We are here to celebrate love made plain through Jesus, who came to teach the ways of God and to show us that love and compassion are stronger than hate and coercion!

Not only that, Jesus also came to include us in the work and compassion of God! Now some of you may be thinking, “Wait. Work? I came here to dwell in the house of the Lord. Now you want to put me to work?” I know, that makes it sound like I’m even worse than Paul. At least he was straightforward about the joy of suffering, right?

The thing is, there are always things to do to keep the church running, but Jesus never said to do any of that. Jesus, in his call to love our enemies, and Paul, in his call to suffer, are expressing the proclamation of the One who inspired these words, “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me always, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

While books have been written about the meaning of these words, their meaning is clear in that they tell us about God’s character and our place as the object of God’s desire. God’s desire is not for our suffering. God’s desire is “goodness and mercy,” and God pursues us, just as God provides and guides and moves us from darkness into light again and again and again!

Funny as it may seem, these words always remind Treva and I of a lesson plan that someone wrote several years back for a small group at a camp. There was a game called “Surely, Goodness, and Mercy Tag” and it just sounded so silly! It was actually a version of blob tag. Players were in a contained area. Three people were “it,” and they were “Surely, Goodness, and Mercy.” When they tagged someone that person would link arms and they would both be “it.” Play continued until everyone was a part of “Surely, Goodness, and Mercy.”

Silly as it is, I think that’s a great image for the church! God’s forgiveness – God’s mercy – pursues us! God’s love is not about what we’ve done or what’s been done to us. It’s about what’s been done for us. Surely God’s love is inevitable, and through it we are moving toward “goodness and mercy” and the inclusion of all creation in the restorative work of God.

This promise of “goodness, and mercy” leads us to the promise that we, “shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever,” and I think it’s impossible for us to hear that without hearing the promise of heavenly bliss. While that is ultimately our hope – in fact Paul’s invitation to suffer with Christ is followed by the promise of sharing in his glory – I think there is more to it than that.

“More to it than eternity,” you say? That’s fair. What I mean to say is that we don’t have to die to enjoy God’s presence. Certainly, the intent of worship is to find a deepened connection with God. In fact, you may occasionally hear me say to a visitor, “I hope you experienced God’s presence today!”

Surely, our hope is that our experience of God here, around this table, helps us to see that God is active and present at work; in the store; at school; at home; pretty much everywhere you go. Surely, God’s hope is that someone else may experience God’s love through you, in this place and every place, because dwelling in the house of the Lord means to know yourself as God’s beloved and to encourage others to see themselves as the same.

Come to think of it, Paul told the church in 2 Corinthians 6:16 that “we are the temple of the living God. For God has said: “I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

So, people of God, all I have to say is, “Tag. You’re it!” Now let’s see who else we can pursue with the love of God. Amen? Amen! And again I say, Amen!

Ps 23 – A Table Before Our Enemies (Psalm 23 pt 5)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 31 Jul 2023 15:12:00 +0000

Psalm 23; Matthew 5:43-45

Over the last few weeks, we have been exploring the 23rd Psalm together, so I want to begin with a summary of where we’ve been so far. We began with v1, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” and we acknowledged God as our shepherd – our caretaker – and we considered the abundance of God’s grace and mercy and the providence of God that flows through this entire Psalm.

With v2, “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters” we discussed the idea of the sabbath keeping from the perspective of Jesus in Matthew 12, which is based less on following a rule and more on compassion for yourself and for all whom God loves. Jesus demonstrated this in Matthew 12 by healing on the Sabbath and reminding us that the Sabbath was created for our limitations, not for God’s.

I turned the wheel over to John and Kris Newman the last two Sundays, as they are great friends of the church who actively proclaim the gospel through care for under-resourced children in our community. John talked about the idea of restorative justice in relation to v3, “He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake,” which John connected with the prophet Micah’s call to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.

Kris got the easy one when she followed that up with v4 “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Ok, maybe not so easy. Seriously, though, I’m thankful for the way she recognized the fact that sometimes the “right path” is through places of darkness, and we are never alone, and the perfect love of God casts out all fears and keeps us moving!

Today we read in v5 that God “prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies. God anoints us with oil; and our cups overflow.” Along with that we have heard the words of Jesus that are perhaps the most difficult of all, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”

Ok, let’s talk a little about enemies. That’s kind of a weird concept, in my opinion, for us in this modern era. Really. We don’t really have a need to be at odds with anyone. There is enough food to go around. There are abundant resources to meet our needs and we live under the rule of law that should keep us from having to fight to get our needs met.

That’s not what those who are in power would have you think, of course. Step one in the playbook of divide and conquer is to divide. Some of you may remember the old Bugs Bunny cartoons where Bugs was at war with Yosemite Sam. They would each have a fort. One had a flag that said “We” and the other had a flag that said “They”.

They would charge at each other, run into the other side’s fort and switch the flags over and over, always ending up with “They” on one and “We” on the other. It’s funny how we still seem to do that when we take sides on issues instead of seeking first to understand.

Sometimes it is hard to do that, especially when someone else has already declared themselves your enemy; especially when the threat of violence is attached; or when others have been moved to violence over the same conflict in the past; or when it gets repeated in new ways so that the threat of violence is always present. It’s only natural to defend yourself and those you love.

Why, then, would Jesus tell us to love our enemies and pray for them? Why would he make it conditional for us to do this so that we may be children of God?

That first question reminds me of Al Pfeuffer, a beloved saint of the church who lived to be 102. This passage came up at prayer group one day and he confessed that this was the hardest thing for him to consider, and he just could not understand why Jesus would say that. He also told me a story about a preacher asking his congregation for a show of hands for anyone who did not have an enemy. An older member threw his hand up. The Pastor said, “Wow, Joe! What a man of faith you are. Please come tell us how your faith has helped you manage this.” Joe made his way to the front, leaned into the microphone, and said, “I just happen to outlive them all.”

Hopefully, Al has his answer now, and hopefully, we can find another way than just outliving our enemies. I think it has something to do with those buzz words you hear from me from time to time – compassion and curiosity. Jesus said to love and pray for your enemies. It’s hard to do that without compassion and curiosity.

Again, it’s hard to do that while staring down a barrel, but the idea here is to find a way to connect before it comes to that. I’m not saying that we should respond to every predator with an invitation to coffee, but maybe there is a way other than viewing every opposing force or point of view as a hostile combatant. There may be some times when it is helpful to look at the larger picture and have conversations about the impact of trauma, poverty, and other stressors that create enmity. Likewise, it is always important to have good boundaries and expectations for yourself and for others.

None of that changes the fact that Jesus calls us toward compassion and curiosity again and again and again. “How many times must I forgive,” asks Peter in Matthew 18:21, and Jesus answers, “Not seven, but seventy times seven.” How can we do that without compassion? How else can we stop the patterns that turn us from friendship to fighting without curiosity about the motives behind the offense?

I think the first example I can recall for this was Mrs. Bridges, my fourth-grade teacher. I was being disruptive in class and she pulled me out into the hall. I’ll never forget it. She responded to my behavior with curiosity. She said, “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. I look at you and I see someone well cared for. What’s going on?” I said something about being picked on, and she said, “You just remember that vengeance is up to God. The Bible says that if you respond to anger with kindness it is like pouring hot coals on their heads.”

Looking back, I’m not sure what impressed me the most. Certainly, it was her faith. I did not know it at the time, but she was quoting Romans 12:20, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink, for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads” which is Paul’s take on Proverbs 25:21-22. It’s hard to remember back that far, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t want hot coals poured on my classmates, so I guess we can mark that up for compassion.

I think what it really made me wonder is if these people were my enemies. You see, before we look for the banquet table spread before our enemies we have to consider what it means to have an enemy in the first place and why we have them. Have I drawn lines in the sand over an ideology or does this person truly wish me or someone I love harm? Even if they do, is it possible to love without risk? Is not the very act of loving someone a risk in and of itself?

Darel Davis is a man who answers this question unequivocally with the word, “Yes.” If you have not heard of him, you can look him up and see his TED Talk about why he, as a black man, attends KKK Rallies and has a collection of over 200 KKK Robes. It started with a question. It started with a deep curiosity about the source of the hatred that culminates in white supremacy. In order to satisfy that curiosity, he has traveled the country spending time getting to know people, building trust, and eventually getting them to renounce their involvement in the KKK and give him their robe as a sign of commitment toward reconciliation.

It sounds pretty incredible, and it is! The transformative love of God is like that. It’s incredible, and it changes the table from a barrier and a bulwark into a space of healing and transformation. That’s right. I said the table. This one in the sanctuary is the most obvious one and it is the most clear and precious example of God’s reconciling love that we have in the church, but here’s the thing.

I’ve always thought of the table in the Psalm as the safe place right out in front of my enemies, whoever they may be. What if it’s not? What if the table is set so that we might engage our enemies in a different way? What if the table is set for them just as it is for us? What if the table is the space where there is more in common than there are differences?

Those among us who have studied history will know that there is one time in which this happened in the most uncommon of spaces, an actual field of battle. On December 24, 1914, the world was at war in hopes to end all wars (funny how that is the refrain of every generation, isn’t it). As the story goes, the Brits took a break from shooting and sang a Christmas Carol, and the refrain came from the Germans on the other side. This led to the sharing of supplies and cigarettes and even a brief game of soccer on the field that just hours before meant death to step upon.

Of course, they returned to their war soon enough, and in some ways, we are still fighting it. Truly we fight for the victory that – in the words of the Prophet, Bono – Jesus has already won! Isn’t it good and wonderful that we might not do that here? Isn’t it good and wonderful that today we have a table prepared before our friends, and more than that we are siblings in Christ, children of God not just because of the love we may show an enemy but because of the love that has been shown for us through Jesus Christ!

Beloved I gotta tell you, it is exciting to know that our congregations are once again asking the question, “How can we proclaim the gospel better together than we can alone?” We don’t know where God will take us next, but we know where we’ve been. We have a rich history of shared events from summers long past, but we’ve also both been engaged in the work of Camp Agape. We have collaborated on Vacation Bible School, which my own children attended, and we’ve sung together and worshiped together during Holy Week.

It is good and right that we might be together today, and it is good and right that the congregation of Grace will extend God’s grace to the congregation of First Presbyterian Church when we worship with them in their sanctuary on August 13. Above and beyond all this, but also in and through it, is the providential love of God and the opportunity to love even those who might make us feel unloved and broken through their own brokenness – even if the one who makes you feel unloved is the one you see in the mirror each day.

Let us seek to understand. Let us be determined to be compassionate. Let us receive the anointing of God and the abundance of God’s love and mercy that fills us up and spills out all around, because we cannot contain it and never could. In truth it’s not really about our ability to love. It’s about God's love that flows through us, which is abundantly clear when we love those who do not love us first. It’s just that simple. It’s just that hard, and it’s all for the glory of God. Amen!

Ps 23 – Restoration (Psalm 23 pt 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 10 Jul 2023 14:16:00 +0000

Psalm 23; Mark 2:23-3:6

As we continue our journey through the 23rd Psalm I want to check in with you to see what the Spirit of God may have given you during our reading. [The 23rd Psalm was read in the style of Lectio Divina.] As a reminder, you were asked to consider what aspect of the Psalm resonated for you today, how the second verse, “God maketh me to lie down in green pastures and sit beside still waters” informed the rest of the passage, and what greater meaning this psalm might have for your life and for ours together as God’s people.

All of that together may be too much to unpack, but I’d like to hear from a few of you if you are willing. We’ll need to pass the microphone around so that those worshiping online can hear, but let’s start with the first question. Was there a word or phrase that connected with you today from the Psalm? You don’t need to say why. Just let us know what it was. [Pause for answers.]

Wonderful! Thank you! What about the next question? How does v2, “God maketh me to lie down in green pastures and sit beside still waters” add to your understanding of the rest of the passage?[Pause for answers.]

Outstanding! Look at us, doing theological reflection together! I’m going to step in on that third question, although I dearly hope God gave you something that is more precious to you than anything I have to say.

Before that, I do want to remind you that last week we focused on v1, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” and we acknowledged God as our shepherd – our caretaker. We talked a bit about what it means to be without want, but not so much about our want for material things. We talked about the vulnerability of God expressed in Jesus, and the fact that while we may – at times – be founding wanting of God’s grace and mercy… they are never in short supply.

Today we read that God does not just invite us into spaces of grace and mercy, God makes us lie down in them! That was the thing that struck me during our reading. Now I don’t know about you, but most people I know are not super into being made to do anything, especially by an all-powerful, supernatural being!

Most of us don’t mind saying that “God is in control” in a more general sense – especially in times when we are clearly not – but few of us want God or anyone else to tread on our free will. Personally, I prefer to talk about God inviting us into a way of being in the world and about the importance of our choices as stewards of the gifts God has given us.

But there it is. God makes us lie down and take sabbath rest – for our own good. Jesus speaks to this in Mark’s gospel 2:27 when he says, ‘The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath.’ In this case, he was chastising the Pharisees for their disregard for suffering, but it seems to bear witness to the important fact that Sabbath keeping moves us toward restoration.

The sheep in the field lay down in the grass that they will enjoy. They lay beside the waters that can safely sustain them. Fun fact. Did you know that wool is very absorbent and gets very heavy when it is wet? When sheep encounter a current it does not go well for them.

What about us? Are there times when we seek what we think is life-sustaining only to be overwhelmed? Absolutely! Does God still come to us in our time of need? Absolutely. Does God expect us to do the same for one another? Yes.

Hopefully, that is why we are here today. We are here to receive rest for our souls beside the still waters of baptism that remind us of God’s never failing love for us. We are here to listen to stories about the life and ministry of Jesus, who offers the restoration we seek!

Sometimes that means just being here, together, no matter what the preacher has to say. Sometimes the act of coming together for worship is enough to give you a break from all the heartache of social media and the 24hr news cycle. Certainly, that is one of the gifts that keeping the sabbath offers us, but the caution of scripture is this – does it lead to restoration?

In Mark 2 Jesus confronts the Pharisees for being Pharisees and caring more about the rules than the people they impact, and I think sometimes we are too quick to assume that their only function in the story is to be the bad guy. The Pharisees were keepers of tradition and identity because they believed it was right and good and faithful. The question this text asks of us is whether or not we are falling into the same trap.

I’m not suggesting that we are pushing people out with our traditions. Really we just want people to come to church by any means possible. We don’t care who you are!

It seems to me that the important thing to remember is the way that Jesus understands and interprets sabbath keeping. Some of his interpretation is a bit of dramatic storytelling to connect him to the house of David, but the larger point he is making is that his disciples were so hungry that they were chewing wheat pods! Then he immediately cured a man with an injured hand to show that the point of the Sabbath is compassion.

Compassion means to “suffer with” someone, and it implies a desire to bring healing and restoration. There are, of course, great and heroic examples of this – Jesus being the foremost – but sometimes it is as simple as letting someone know that you hear them and you see them.

One can never tell how staged videos are on the internet, but I saw a fabulous one the other day that I believe to be true. A person walked up to a woman who was working security for an event and gave her a note. It read, “Dear Stranger, For all the times you felt that you weren’t enough, I want you to know that you are more than enough.” She seemed a bit confused, but also a little shaken. It was hard to tell.

Then they went to a construction worker and gave him flowers and a note that said, “Make the most of your day.” He rolled his eyes a bit, smelled the flowers, and got a big grin. A man on a bench reading a book was given one that said, “Ignore what others think. Just be yourself!” He looked a little confused at first. Then he straightened up a bit and became really thoughtful – like he was re-evaluating his whole existence! My favorite was the older guy who was selling handmade jewelry on a street. She asked him to hold some flowers while she tied her shoe and then she said, “Those are for you!” and walked off. There was a note tucked inside that said, “You deserve every good thing that comes your way today!” After reading it he was shaken, almost to tears.

My point in sharing these is that you never know how far the smallest kindness can go. You never know what someone else’s story is, but attending to your own story as God’s beloved child can help you extend the grace you have received. Your story, and my story, is that there is a God who loves us. There is a God who provides for us, and God only makes you do what is good for you and for those you love.

God not only has compassion for you. God is the source of compassion if it is to exist at all. As we move forward in our exploration of the 23rd Psalm, I want to encourage you with this. The One who creates, restores, and sustains all that is, was, and ever shall be, has an interest in your well-being.

God’s love is long-suffering and invitational and dare I say providential – and it moves us toward restoration; restoration in our lives through sabbath rest; restoration in our community through our ability to love as we have been loved; and restoration throughout all creation extend the love we have received as stewards and caretakers of the abundance of God’s good creation.

We can do all these things, just maybe not all at once, but often they are as simple as a smile, or a note, or a text. Just remember to take a beat before you feel overwhelmed. Let the weekly practice of being here shape the rhythm of your days, for there is rest beside these waters and there is restoration in God’s love. Amen.

Ps 23 – Not Just For Funerals (Psalm 23 pt 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 03 Jul 2023 14:58:00 +0000

Psalm 23; Luke15:1-7

Today begins a series on the 23rd Psalm, which we read from the King James Version. Out of curiosity, let’s have a quick show of hands. How many of you (unlike me) had to memorize this as a child? How many of you have memorized it just from hearing it in church? Interesting. Thank you!

Memorization in general seems to me to be a more common teaching technique for previous generations. I don’t want to get into why or what’s best, but I do want to acknowledge the importance of repetition and ritual in a life of faith. Repetition and ritual can certainly be taken too far and then become entirely meaningless, but there are also times and places where it can offer meaning and hope when all else is lost.

In my faith journey, I have found that to be particularly true with the 23rd Psalm. Admittedly, this Psalm is most often shared at funerals, and there’s a reason for that. This Psalm acknowledges the providence of God, promises restoration, and offers hope when all hope is lost. Hope is the theological piece, and it’s what we need when we face the ultimate mystery of death and look toward our faith to comfort us.

The other part of it, especially for those of us that memorized it – whether by intent or osmosis, is the emotional impact of saying these words out loud together. Humans are a mixed bag of biomechanical, chemical, and electric processes, and whether it is some deep memory of approval for the task or the recognition that generations before and after find meaning in it together, these words can check some boxes that we don’t even realize that we have.

The first time I experienced the Psalm in this way was at my Father’s funeral in 2008. As a young pastor, I was thankful that my step-mom did not ask me to lead the service (I just wanted to be cared for), and I was honored to represent my siblings by reading the 23rd Psalm. Now, my father and I had a hard-fought but close relationship, and his passing was very hard for me. Still is. Always will be.

When I stepped to the pulpit the loss hit me in a way that I was not expecting, so I said, “The 23rd Psalm is one that so many of us know, and I’d love it if any of you who have it memorized would say it with me.” Then the coolest thing happened. They said it with me!

Something about the sound of all those voices echoing and confirming everything that this Psalm has to say about God and about each of us as God’s beloved ones gave me what I needed. Hope. It gave me hope. It gave me hope that Dad was ok, and so was I.

Sometimes we all need to hear that, and not just at a funeral! So, as I said before, we’re going to spend the next few weeks wandering through this Psalm together and pairing its verses with other passages to see how it can offer us the hope that we need.

Today, we’re just going to look at verse 1, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” Admittedly, that may be a little tougher than it seems. What does it mean to us that God is indeed our “Shepherd,” and what does it mean to be without “want”?

Our old friend John Calvin subscribes to the view that King David, who is traditionally believed to be the author of the majority of the Psalms (though that view is somewhat contested by modern scholars), is a paragon of faith (which really does not play out as you read through 1st Samuel), and he suggests that David wrote this psalm in a time of peace and prosperity. He essentially argued that King David was expressing his own humility as a sheep in God’s fold and God is likewise expressing how far God will go for us, given the humility of the station of a shepherd.

Well, classism and modern scholarship aside, David had himself been a shepherd. Whether he penned or commissioned these words, and whether they were written before or after he consolidated the Kingdom of Israel, he knew what it meant to be a shepherd. He knew it was a risky thing to do, and this Psalm speaks of a God who is willing to take a risk for your sake and for mine.

Richard Bruxvoort Colligan, a more modern composer of music for the church, suggests that the vulnerability of God – as it continues into the New Testament – is not limited to the function of keeping the threats away. As we see it in the life of Jesus, the vulnerability of God becomes more and more about inclusion.

In John 10:16 he says, “I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.” In Galatians 3:28 Paul says that, in Christ, there is no distinction between Jew, Gentile, Women, and Men, and in our reading from Luke’s gospel we see that Jesus praises the shepherd who flat out leaves the 99 in search of the 1 sheep who is lost!

The context here is about repentance, and Jesus is telling this story as a warm-up for the parable about the prodigal son – a story that ends with a cliffhanger. You may recall that the younger brother had gone away and wasted his inheritance. On his return, his dad through a party, and we are left with his elder brother fuming over it and being asked by his father to rejoice in his brother’s return.

Repentance, in this context, is about restoration to the community. In the story of the prodigal son, the father barely listens to his youngest son’s confession. In the parable of the lost sheep, the return of the lost one is the only cause for rejoicing, and Jesus tells this story to those who grumble over the fact that he is associating with people they consider to be “sinners”.

Austen Hartke, a graduate of Luther Seminary and author of Transforming: The Bible and the Lives of Transgender Christians, asks the “what if” question about this passage. What if the one sheep was missing because the ninety-nine chased it away? Clearly, this is well outside of the actual context of the parable itself, but it’s still a good question. Given that Jesus was responding to criticism that he was eating with sinners, maybe it’s not too far out of bounds to ask if the one God seeks is the one we reject.

Truly, our faith in Christ is about restoration into the community. In the past, I have called this “a more common unity,” but recently I have begun to wonder if I should be saying “a more uncommon unity.” What is common may not be what is fit for the kin_dom and household and family of God. What is common in the world is that we set divisions between us that separate and alienate. What is uncommon is that we include one another; rely on one another; and constantly open ourselves to learn and grow through embracing our differences.

Having said that, I want to be clear that there are differences of opinion and belief, and expression that can be held in tension, unless or until such views and activities seek to dehumanize and harm another person or a group. Unfortunately, Western Christianity has done this over and over through the years and has only recently begun to recognize the harm we’ve done to native populations, people of color, and sexual minorities. Recognizing this harm is a good thing. It doesn’t mean that we’ve never done anything good. It doesn’t mean that the bad we’ve done has always been intentional or with malice, though some have been. Recognizing this harm is a penitent thing. It means that we are able to say that we believe there is a better way.

It means that we can say that we have been found to be wanting, and there is only one reason for that. The reason is not for the lack of providence. It is for the lack of faith and for having the desire to be the shepherd instead of the sheep of God’s fold. Forgive me if that sounds too personal. I don’t mean to point fingers apart from those I point at myself and at the institution of the church. Truly, my hope is to acknowledge the source of our hope. Our hope is always in the providence of God! Our expectation is that even the things that we produce, no matter how hard we work, are provided through the providence of God!

It is sometimes hard to see this when we are in a position of need, whether by the poverty of riches, or of the soul, or just lacking in resources. It’s hard to believe in providence when we consider the plight of those experiencing homelessness – whose faith is no lesser and in some cases greater.

It’s hard to imagine being without want without rolling up our sleeves and working as hard as we can, and yet it is God that sustains us. It is God that provides this strange biosphere in the vastness of the cosmos. It is God that consoles us in our time of loss. It is God who forms us and re-forms us again and again and again into communities of believers where we experience love and trust and forgiveness and reconciliation around a table; beside a font; in the presence of God.

In this ritual of faith, we are offered the assurance that God is active and present. In this ritual of faith, we submit to the care of the One who calls us from isolation and restores us into such an uncommon union as only the heavens may know, and in it the heavens rejoice! That’s our starting point – recognizing the fact that we are held in the providence of God. Next week we’ll talk about Sabbath rest as we continue to explore the providence of God together but rest in this truth today. God will go to any length to let you know that you are loved. That’s what we celebrate around this table today! At least I pray it may be so with me, and with you, and they and them – until us and them becomes just us – and the heavens rejoice! Amen.